Reign of the Wolf King
by Jason Thompson
Summary: When word of Lyanna's abduction reached Rickard and Brandon at Riverrun he ordered his son to ride north while he rode for King's Landing to ask for her return. Now he alongside his brother have taken King's Landing at the head of "Robert's Rebellion."
1. Jaime

Jamie Lannister was slumped on the Iron Throne, his sword lying in his lap and dripping blood onto the polished stone beneath his feet. His white cloak and armor, the armor of the Kingsguard, was stained crimson with that very same blood. The blood was not his, nor was it spilt from an enemy in battle.

It was the blood of King Aerys of House Targaryen, Second of His Name. King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. The King he had sworn to protect with his life, the king he had slain as the combined armies of most of Westeros' Great Houses sacked the city.

As the only knight of the Kingsguard in the city, he'd been at Aerys' side for days; the king had been raving and incoherent for much longer. This morning, while his father's army tore into King's Landing under the banners of Robert's Rebellion, he asked the King's permission to ride out and attempt to broker a truce with his father. Aerys' reply was to demand he ride out and take his father's head.

Jaime found Rossart attempting to sneak out of the castle. He knew the Hand had been conspiring with Aerys to burn King's Landing should Robert take the city so he did not hesitate to kill the man and stormed into the throne room. He would remember the look on Targaryen's face for years to come when the old man asked whose blood was on Jaime's sword and he told him it was Rossart's. But what would haunt him for all the days he had left was the squealing noise he made as Jaime slit his throat and the red that seemed to cover everything as he bled out.

He vaguely remembered his father's men, Westerling and Crakehall amongst them bursting into the room and telling them to spare any man who yielded but all he could think about was how tired he suddenly felt. After they left, he'd staggered over to the Iron Throne and sank into it. He felt far older than his eighteen years now. He was an oath breaker, a kingslayer. He knew this day would define him for the rest of his life in the eyes of all of Westeros. Word would travel and everyone would judge the actions of a sworn brother of the Kingsguard killing the king as a rebel army took the Capital, for good or ill.

One of three things would happen now and all of them would start the same: He would be cast out of the Kingsguard then he would go, either to the sword, to The Wall or from the Realm entirely. He doubted his father would allow him to be executed which truly meant he would either take the Black or be cast from Westeros. He'd likely be left to roam Essos for his remaining days, without name or title or become a sell sword and live without honor. Part of him welcomed either fate.

Another part of him just wanted to return to Casterly Rock, to be with his family. His father would welcome his return, and he would sit with his brother Tyrion and pretend all this was a nightmare he'd woken from and Cersei… As his thoughts turned to his Sweet Sister they became cold. It was partially her fault that he was here now. Her grand scheme to keep her brother close at hand while she became Rhaegar's Queen all so he wouldn't marry Lysa Tully had lead him to this moment.

The lust that usually accompanied thoughts of her was crushed by a long festering anger he'd never recognized before this moment, the anger poisoned his thoughts of home and made even the prospect of freezing on the Wall until he died more welcome than returning home.

The doors burst in at that moment and Jaime looked up to see Eddard Stark, ahorse and sword drawn. The dirt and gore of battle covered both his face and armor and made him look less like a young man of one and twenty and more like a conquering Northman of old. The kind his mother or uncle Kevan would tell stories about when he was a boy. Dark of hair and long of face, Eddard's grey eyes looked around the throne room expecting threats.

With him were two men that Jaime recognized vaguely. To Eddard's left was a mountainous man with black hair that was greying at the temples as well as side-whiskers that also mingled black and grey. In his hand was a longsword that was dripping gore. He had seen Ser Rodrik Cassel best three men half his age in a melee at a tourney three years ago and he remembered being impressed that a man of his size had as much grace as he did in battle.

Riding to Eddard's right was Ser Brynden Tully. His auburn hair starting to show signs of grey as well as his beard but The Black Fish looked as fierce and eager for combat as any man did.

The three men rode slowly through the throne room, and came to a stop in front of the corpse of the King. Eddard sheathed his sword then dismounted; his grey eyes narrowed and hard as he locked gazes with Jaime. Jaime lazily rose from the Throne and smiled at Stark as he did, "Relax Stark, I was merely keeping it warm for our friend Robert."

The other two men dismounted slowly as the Northman looked down at the body of Ayres, "What happened here?"

Before Jaime could answer, twenty Stark and Baratheon men flooded into the throne room. They then parted for their commander as he rode in. Jaime looked up, expecting to see Robert Baratheon atop the horse but he was surprised to see Brandon Stark. The silver direwolf sigil gleamed against the dark of his armor, his grey cloak trailed behind and the great sword in his hand was soaked with gore.

Brandon stopped his horse then called for his squire. Ethan Glover approached and took Ice from him; he cleaned and sheathed the sword as Lord Stark dismounted. Brandon was taller than his brother, and looked even more like the Northern Lords of fables. He removed his helm and his dark hair looked wild, his beard was as thick and dark as his hair.

He approached Jaime and his brother, clapping Tully and Cassel on the shoulders as he passed them. He stopped at his brother's side and smiled widely at Eddard before pulling him into a powerful hug, "Ned, good to see you still whole!"

Eddard Stark smiled at that moment and suddenly looked like an entirely different man. "We were fine, Bran. It was you who waded on foot into a hundred Merryweather men with just a dozen horses!"

Brandon let loose a laugh that boomed against the walls, "Aye, and cut them to pieces as well!" He stepped back and turned to Jaime. He gave him an appraising eye, "Ser Jaime, of the Kingsguard." He glanced at the body on the floor, "What happened here?"

Jaime scowled slightly, "The King intended to burn the city rather than let Robert take it. I put an end to him."

There was an angry murmur from the men in the room, more than a few uttered the word, "Kingslayer!" Jaime did not move, but he prepared himself.

Ned gripped his sword but Brandon's hand covered his brother's. He looked Jaime over then raised his voice above the grumbling behind him. "Enough! No man will repeat what was said here. Lannister chose the realm over his oath, as we all did."

Jaime felt the tension in his shoulders ease a fraction; he found his voice a little surer when he asked, "Where is Robert? I would think he'd be ready to take his throne."

Eddard spoke with great sadness, "Robert died at the Trident. Rhaegar struck a killing blow as he died; Robert outlived him by a matter of hours."

Brandon nodded, "We carried Robert's Hammer and Helm with us to King's Landing to honor him." Jaime watched as the men near the doors parted. In walked Ser Colen, a knight sworn to the Baratheons. He carried Robert's Antlered Helm and behind him was Selwyn Tarth with Robert's War Hammer. Each man nodded respectfully as the two passed, a few even reached out and touched the weapon Tarth carried.

Jaime frowned, "Then who will be King?"

Almost as one the Stark and Baratheon men all turned to Brandon and began to cheer for him to take the Throne. Brandon turned towards Eddard and his brother nodded grimly. Jaime expected Ned Stark did most things grimly. Brandon stepped away from his brother as he unclasped his cloak he then handed it to Brynden Tully and climbed the steps; he turned back to the room and sat upon the Iron Throne.

As he settled into the chair, Rodrik Cassel called out loudly, "All Hail our King! Brandon of House Stark, the First of his Name. King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long may he Reign!"

First Rodrik, then Eddard and Brynden then nearly as one the soldiers and knights knelt. Jaime quickly joined them. Brandon commanded them to rise and as they did, many of the men began to cheer Brandon while congratulating each other. Jaime noticed his Uncle Kevan and two Lannister soldiers enter the Hall. They crossed the room quickly, his uncle noticed Brandon sitting on the throne and he and his officers quickly took a knee in front of the new King, "Your Grace. I bring word from Lord Tywin Lannister."

Jaime watched the new king and his de-facto advisors sober and turn to the Lannister men. Brandon spoke neutrally, "Rise and speak."

Kevan and his men regained their feet and Kevan began, "My Lord Brother has captured Prince Rhaegar's wife and children and currently has them in the Tower of the Hand. He awaits instruction, Your Grace." Brandon nodded and Kevan continued, "He also regrets to inform you that the Queen and her son escaped by ship under cover of night."

Jaime was not terribly surprised at how his father was proceeding. It was smart tactically, Tywin had held off on committing to either Robert or Aerys for as long as he could, it was not until Rhaegar was defeated at the Trident and the Rebellion made the final push that he committed and even then he could have sided with Targaryen today. Jaime could see and he was certain the Starks could as well. So he must have moved in and secured Rhaegar's family as proof of his loyalty to whichever side took King's Landing. If Aerys had repelled the Starks he could be seen as protecting the Royal Family from the invaders.

Ned stepped forward, "Your Grace?"

Brandon looked at his brother and Jaime could almost see the brothers debating without words. The new King then spoke calmly, "We can do nothing about the Queen and the youngest prince for now but should the boy ever set foot in Westeros again he will be sent to his Uncle on The Wall." Jaime heard the murmur of chuckles rumble behind him before Brandon continued, "Return Elia and her children to her father; they may retrieve personal items but no money. Lord Martell will house them; they will never again leave Dorne."

Kevan bowed deeply, "It will be done, Your Grace." Jaime watched as two squires dragged the corpse of Aerys from the hall, leaving behind only his blood and his crown which must have rolled away as the dying king fell.

While Kevan left, Brandon called out, "Tully, take a force and relieve Stannis Baratheon at Storm's End. He's suffered too long already. Once Storm's End is in control, I will require his presence on the Small Council." Tully gathered a group of his men and led them from the hall.

When the King spoke next it was to all the men who remained, "Secure the city, we will accept all surrenders for the moment and wait for the morrow to decide who is to face judgment and who is not." The dismissal was clear, leaving only Jaime, Ethan Glover and Eddard.

Brandon turned to him, Jaime could see now that the rush of battle and victory was leaving the King, but as it did he seemed to find footing. He sat tall and straight in the Iron Throne as though Aegon had forged it for him. His grey eyes were as calm as a midnight sea; Jaime found something like respect in the man's eyes. It was not at all what he would've expected to see in the new king. "Ser Jaime, three of the Kingsguard are unaccounted for, it is notable that the Lord Commander is of their number." He leaned forward and suddenly his eyes turned piercing, Jaime could feel them searching for the truth. When he spoke his voice was flinty, "I believe they have my sister."

He thought of young Lyanna Stark, Rhaegar's infatuation with her had been the doom of the Targaryens. History may one day call this "Robert's Rebellion" as it had been the banner of the Stag that the Starks had rallied behind but it had been the North that had crashed down upon King's Landing to rescue her. It had been the fury of the North that tore through the south and forced his father's hand and it would be the North that would forge Westeros in the years to come.

He doubted that the King or his brother would have any trouble adding his body to the pile of dead to see her back in Winterfell. But to tell them would likely condemn his three brothers. "They took Lady Stark to the Tower of Joy, Your Grace. But I beg that you allow me to write them, a message you can give them when you go. They are my brothers and I love them as such, they are also sworn to Aerys. He ordered them to keep her hostage and I fear they will prefer death to failure."

Brandon nodded, and Jaime left his side to find paper and ink. He wrote Lord Commander Hightower and begged him to allow Stark's men to take Lyanna without conflict. He implored him to see that Aerys had gone mad years ago and brought folly and doom down upon the Royal Family. He signed and sealed the letter, but he was unsure if Hightower would heed the message. When he returned to the Hall he found Brandon and Eddard leaving with Glover following, the elder brother instructing the younger. "Take Jaime's message, try to avoid bloodshed. The boy is right, they will likely fight but I grow tired of combat."

Ned nodded, "Aye, it should never have come to this."

They stopped in front of Ser Rodrick who was with Ned's men already mounted and ready. Howland Reed and Willam Dustin were the most notable among them. Jaime handed Ned the letter he had written and the younger Stark gave him a nod. When he spoke, his voice was a great deal kinder than when he had entered the throne room, "Thank you, Ser Jaime."

Jaime nodded and took a respectful step back as Brandon gripped his brother's shoulder, "Find her, Ned. Take her home to Ben and take care of them for me." Ned reached up and gripped his brother's shoulder and gave him a curt nod. Brandon did not release his brother, however. "I would name you Lord of Winterfell, for that you will need this." He gave his squire a nod and the young man brought forth Ice. Eddard took the sword reverently in his hands, "Protect Winterfell, protect the North. Winter is Coming."

As though instinct, Jaime supposed for the Starks it was, Ned repeated. "Winter is Coming."

He carefully secured the Stark's family blade and mounted his horse before he led his men out of the city bound for the red mountains. Brandon stared at the gates until long after they left. When he turned from the gate, Jaime could tell he'd set aside Brandon Stark in favor of King Brandon I. He spoke to Rodrick, "I will send for my wife in the morning, gather men to meet her on the King's Road. You will leave with them in the morning then make for Winterfell as well, Rodrick. My brother will need your counsel."

The older man bowed, "Of course, Your Grace."

Finally, the King turned back to Jaime, "Could you seek out Lord Lannister, Ser Jaime? I wish to speak with you and your Lord Father about many things."


	2. Joanna

The wheelhouse rumbled as it rolled along the King's Road, but Joanna Lannister was very nearly convinced it was rumbling more from her daughter's fury. Cersei was a beautiful young woman of eighteen, blonde of hair and emerald of eyes. It had seemed to Joanna that from the moment she could speak that Tywin had loved nothing more than to fill their daughter's head with the dream of being Rhaegar Targaryen's Queen.

He would tell her she was meant to be the most powerful woman in all of Westeros one day; it was her birthright as a daughter of House Lannister. The thought appealed to Cersei even as a toddler and she would take to lessons with her father's ambition as well as her own fueling her need to know everything she'd need to be a queen.

Cersei was graceful and poised. Practiced elegance to match her beauty and hide her mind and ambition. Tywin would look at her and declare her "A perfect Queen." Cersei would smile and she would seem to shine like a summer sun.

Her crown had never come.

Now in her fury, she burned. As terrible as the wild fire that so infatuated the late, unlamented Aerys the Second. Joanna tried to squelch thoughts of Aerys and all the chaos he had heaped on House Lannister to little avail. It had all started when the King had refused Tywin's offer of betrothal between Rhaegar and Cersei. Things seemed to spiral out of control after that. She could still remember Tywin's face when he'd returned from Harrenhal without Jaime and the title of Hand of the King. For days he would brood in his solar and mutter curses meant for the whole of House Targaryen.

Months later Aerys had called the banners; the Baratheons, Arryns and Starks had rebelled and Aerys demanded Tywin raise an army to help crush them. Tywin gathered his army but refused to answer the call. Instead he had his men protect their border, while he waited. When he finally rode for King's Landing, he'd told Joanna it was with the intention of "Cutting the old bastard's throat myself."

It was a little more than a month ago that he returned. She and Cersei had been both surprised and pleased to see Jaime riding with him, and even more surprised to learn that the newly crowned King Brandon of House Stark had offered Jaime a release from the Kingsguard which he'd accepted.

They'd also returned with Jaime's betrothed, a pretty blonde daughter of House Hightower named Lynesse, and a larger plan. Tywin told her that the King had asked for him to resume his duties as Hand, while she would remain at Casterly Rock to help Jaime settle into his duties at home. The King had married a Tully daughter and she'd already birthed a son, linking the North and Riverlands, Jaime would marry a woman of the South before they left Casterly Rock. She felt such sympathy for Cersei as her daughter started to scowl, just before Tywin said: "Which leaves Casterly Rock and Winterfell. Cersei, after Jaime is married we ride north. You are to marry the King's Brother, Eddard Stark."

Her daughter railed against it for days, she never cried but her fury was felt and heard by every man and woman in Casterly Rock. Her words however fell on deaf ears, Tywin had orchestrated a deal that would both unify the Realm and bring him power and prestige. He would be the Hand to a young King, the perfect chance for his will to mold Westeros. There was no power in the lands of men that would cause Tywin Lannister to throw that away.

Next, Cersei tried to convince Joanna. She appealed to her, saying that she didn't want to marry some frigid man of the North and live in a castle that was said to be dwarfed every winter by snow. She called the Starks savages and heathens that still worshipped Weirwood trees. She even tried to convince Joanna she feared she would be passed amongst Stark's Banner men. Joanna did not submit to Cersei's tantrum while doing her best to soothe her daughter.

The most surprising exchange was between Cersei and her twin two days before Jaime's wedding to Lynesse. They were breaking fast, save Tywin who was at Lannisport dealing with an issue between a ship captain and the harbor master. Cersei turned to her twin and said, "Please Jaime, don't let father separate us." It was only then that Joanna had realized her son had yet to exchange so much as a word with his sister since he'd returned. Jaime picked up his cup and was drinking from it as Cersei spoke, "We've been together our whole lives and-"

Suddenly Jaime slammed his cup down with such force that the plates rattled and his Arbor Gold flew everywhere. He lurched to his feet and said, "Forgive me, _sweet sister_. Considering the last time you brought up us being together our whole lives I took a vow to guard Aerys Targaryen, perhaps some distance will serve us better." He left the room with Tyrion toddling after him, and Joanna could only watch Cersei scowl.

They'd left Tyrion and Kevan behind in Casterly Rock four days later and after a fortnight on the road they had finally turned north only this morning. Tywin and Jaime were out in front with several Lannister guards, six of Tywin's Banner men, their troops and families and a half dozen or so free riders that joined up along the way. As they passed through Darry they'd learned that the King had passed through a few days earlier on his way to Winterfell.

Joanna was not surprised as she knew that as the eldest Brandon would likely oversee the wedding. She was surprised to learn that the King had only a small group with him. Tywin often groused that Aerys would take half the Crownlands with him when he traveled. Brandon apparently took Jon Arryn and his wife, the new Master of Ships Stannis Baratheon, Martyn Cassel and his son Jory. Lastly were three members of the Kingsguard; Lord Commander Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy and Ethan Glover.

She turned her attention back to her daughter and frowned, "Cersei. I know this is not what you wanted. I know your father promised you would be queen but it was not his fault that the Realm came apart as it did." She leaned forward and took her daughter's hand between hers. "It is not his fault that Rhaegar kidnapped the Stark girl, or that Aerys chose execution over negotiation and it is not your father's fault that the Lords of the North loved the Starks so much as to rally to Lyanna Stark's rescue.

"The Targaryens brought all of Westeros down upon their heads and it is up to your father and the Starks to put them back together again and we must help them. I can tell you this though, I had the pleasure of meeting Brandon and Eddard Stark at the Tourney in Storm's End and he was a kind young man. Serious and kind, you could grow to love a man like that." Her daughter's scowl became a frown then, "All I ask is that you try."

At last, her daughter spoke and for the first time in weeks it was not in a voice laced with fury. "Mother, I know how I must have sounded, I've dreamed of being the Queen for so long and now… Now, I'll be so alone up there. You won't be there. Jaime-" She scowled again and Joanna cursed herself for not pressing Tywin to send Jaime to foster with the Tullys when she caught her children those years ago. Perhaps she would have spared Cersei and Jaime this pain now, "Alone in the wolf's den."

Joanna smiled and squeezed her daughter's hand affectionately, "My sweet Cersei, all it will take is one babe at your breast and Winterfell will be _your_ wolf's den. They love the Starks in the North and he will love you. Then they will love you as well. How could they not?" For a moment and only a moment, Cersei smiled. Though she worried it was the idea of the people of Winterfell adoring her, Joanna hoped that it was the idea of a babe at her breast and a husband that loved her that warmed Cersei.

The wheelhouse still rumbled along the King's Road but Cersei Lannister, who would soon be Lady Cersei Stark of Winterfell seemed soothed.


	3. Benjen

Benjen Stark stood with his brother and sister in the Courtyard of Winterfell as the three of them awaited the arrival of their eldest brother, Brandon.

Ben still could not believe all that had happened since Bran had ridden into Winterfell that morning over two years past. He'd been making preparations for his father and eldest brother's return when Brandon arrived alone and demanded Maester Walys send ravens to every corner of the North.

Lyanna had been kidnapped by the Crown Prince, their father had rode for King's Landing to negotiate her return to Winterfell and Brandon was calling the banners. They were surprised when three days later the first to answer the Call was the new lord of the Dreadfort, Roose Bolton. Bolton brought with him his men and a letter from King Aerys demanding Brandon and Benjen's heads and the destruction of Winterfell. The Flints, Umbers and Karstarks arrived next, each with men and their own copies of Targaryen's command. For nearly a week, the Lords of every Northern house arrived with men ready to march south.

With the furthest to travel, Jorah Mormont and his men were amongst the last to arrive from Bear Island but they rode into Winterfell the same morning as Lord Galbart Glover and what appeared to be a token force. He then explained that while he brought a small force to Winterfell to show he would ride with the Starks, he sent the majority of his men to Moat Cailin and Greywater Watch to fortify against the King's army.

The next day Benjen watched his brother ride south with sixty thousand Northmen. The last thing he'd said was, "Protect Winterfell, Ben. Ned and I will bring Lyanna home." Two years later Ned made good on the promise and the word that Brandon was now King.

Three weeks ago, Brandon had written and informed them he had arranged for Ned to marry Cersei Lannister and that he would ride North to oversee the wedding. All three were shocked and while Lyanna and Ben expressed outrage that Brandon would do such a thing without consulting his brother Ned reminded them that he was now their King and it was his duty to serve the King. If he required Ned to marry Cersei Lannister he would and he expected them to do the same if he or Brandon required it.

It was then that Benjen informed them of his intention to Take the Black once Ned was married before Ned or Brandon could get any ideas. The preparations for both the arrival of the King and Ned's Wedding consumed much of all three Stark siblings' time.

Ned had sent a scout out along the King's Road every morning at dawn for the last three days and this morning the scout had returned with word of men riding with Stark Banners. He and Ned had been in the Godswood when the new Maester brought word of Brandon's pending arrival. Ned ordered out riders to meet them and asked that everyone assemble in the courtyard.

Lyanna looked at the assembled people and smiled wryly. Ned looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, "Does this entertain you, sister?"

She looked up at Ned and said, "I suppose it's not every day that the Crown visits Winterfell."

Ben chuckled, "As the Stark in Winterfell for most of the last three years I can safely say that it's not every day that _Brandon Stark_ visits Winterfell. He'd have earned this much attention without having sat in that ridiculous chair."

Lyanna laughed loudly, Ben always enjoyed how their sister was never concerned about being ladylike with her brothers. Judging by the smile on his normally dour brother's face, Ned did too. It was not surprising, Ned adored Lyanna and she often was able to crack his icy exterior. Even in the times that he and Brandon had failed.

Ben hated to think what would have become of the Stark brothers had Lyanna not lived. Ned had told him how weak she was when they found her at the Tower of Joy, so weak he had been frightened to move her. But at Howland Reed's urging he did, they had left with Arthur Dayne and had ridden hard all the way to Storm's End. Once there, Maester Cressen had been able to nurse her back to health before Ned brought her to Winterfell.

Ben's musing was cut short when the first riders in Brandon's company passed through the gates. They were of the Kingsguard and even at six and ten, Ben's mind was suddenly filled with adventurous tales at the sight of them. His smile grew wide when he saw Brandon's former squire and a friend to all the Starks, Ethan Glover, in their number. When his eyes met his friend's the newly sworn knight gave him a nod.

Jory Cassel and Harrion Karstark came through the gates next carrying Stark Banners. It took a just a moment for Ben to notice that the direwolves on the banners were adorned with crowns, matching the banners that had recently gone up around Winterfell. Then came Stannis Baratheon and Jon Arryn, both dressed in leathers and furs (Ben imagined that the early spring was indistinguishable from the dead of winter for Southron Lords) the only real differences were the cloaks each man wore. Lord Stannis wore a black cloak with a yellow stag stitched on the shoulders and back while Lord Arryn's wore a blue cloak adorned with a white falcon.

A Wheelhouse stopped just outside the gates as it was too large to make it through but Ben saw that Martyn Cassel had the reins. Then Brandon rode in, as one the people knelt before their king. Ben kept his eyes on his brother as he brought his destrier to a halt and leapt off as he'd seen his brother do a thousand times before.

Truthfully, little had changed about Brandon; He still had the Stark hair and grey eyes, though his hair was a bit longer now. His beard was fuller, and if Ben wasn't mistaken he saw a few grey and white whiskers scattered amongst the brown. He wore leathers like the rest but no furs or cloak, Ben could understand. Were it not for formalities he'd have cast aside a cloak today as well. It was spring and barely cold enough to snow, quite warm to a man of the North.

There were differences; He wore a two-handed sword at his hip that looked more ornate than Ben would expect his brother to wear. Lastly, there was the crown he wore; a solid band of steel as wide as the length of a man's thumb with the Stark Direwolf etched into it sitting in the center of his brow.

Brandon stopped before them and bid them rise. Standing face to face with his family quickly brought a smile to his face, as it always did. Brandon was always the quickest to smile or laugh, even quicker than Lyanna. Ned gave his brother his best approximation of their father's "Lord's Face" and said; "Your Grace, Winterfell is yours."

With a laugh, Brandon pulled Ned into his arms and clapped him on the back and Ned returned the embrace. "This is how you welcome your brother home, Ned?"

When they released each other Ned had the faintest hint of a grin as he replied; "It is when he's the King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar."

Benjen stepped forward and pulled Bran into his arms, "And the First Men."

Brandon returned the embrace then turned to Lyanna, "Please, sweet sister. Save me from this Title. Everywhere I go they chant it at me as though-"

She smiled and finished for him, "As though you were King?"

When Bran pulled his sister to him and held her in his arms, in Ben's mind he felt as though the long war was finally over. He placed a kiss in her dark locks then held her out at arm's length and just drank in the sight of her safe and whole. Finally he spoke, "'As though I was King.' Are you alright?" She nodded. He breathed in and stepped back, he then held his arm out in invitation to his party. "Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell meet my Master of Ships, Lord Stannis Baratheon of Storm's End."

Stannis Baratheon stepped forward and had Benjen not known him to be Robert's brother he'd never have guessed, Stannis was as tall and broad as his late older brother but he kept his dark hair cropped tight. Where Robert's eyes were full of a youthful fire, Stannis' were almost cold and where Robert's mouth seemed always ready to turn up in a smile or let loose with a booming laugh Stannis' jaw was clenched in a frown. He looked as though he'd never known joy in his life.

He gave them a nod that was little more than courtesy, "Lord Stark." His voice sounded almost pained. He then nodded to Ben and bowed to Lyanna before stepping back.

Brandon then ushered Jon Arryn forward, "Jon has agreed to take over as Master of Laws."

He also gave Ben a polite nod but he smiled at Lyanna gently then turned to Ned with a look of fatherly pride shining in his eyes when he gripped Ned's shoulder. "I wish we'd had time to talk before you chased off after Lyanna. I am so proud of you, Eddard." The words seemed to bolster his older brother and he stood taller.

Ben spoke, "We've prepared rooms for each of you."

Ned picked up where Ben had left off, "Your Grace, I would be honored if you took the Lord's Chambers."

Brandon seemed to bite down a reply before he remembered this was a conversation between King and Lord as opposed to brothers said, "Where will you sleep, Lord Stark?"

Ben was the one to reply, "I have offered Lord Stark my quarters, I plan to sleep in the Crow's nest until after the wedding." The "Crow's nest" was a set of rooms above the library; it was one of the few guest chambers that was always clean and ready as any visiting men of the Night's Watch would be housed there. It was as good a way as any to let his brother know his intentions. Bran took the message judging by the frown that pulled at his mouth then.

Ned then spoke, "We've prepared a feast for tonight, should your party wish to retire until then," He then ushered Maester Luwin and Vayon Poole over to shows the royal party to the guest wing.

Finally, the King spoke to his party, "Please, enjoy the hospitality of Winterfell. I wish to visit with my family for the day."

Most of Brandon's party dispersed then, the three Knights of the Kingsguard remained at a respectful distance, as well as Stannis. Brandon plucked the crown from his head and called over Harrion Karstark and handed it to the young man. He sighed and spoke with a chuckle, "Bloody thing is uncomfortable." He smiled at them, and suddenly it felt to Ben as if none of this had happened. It was just the four of them; Rickard Stark's Four Wolves. Brandon then confirmed what Ben was thinking when he said, "No more of that 'King' nonsense. No 'Your Grace' or 'My Lord.' I came home to be with my family."

Lyanna laughed lightly, "In that case, how are Catelyn and your babe?"

Brandon's smile changed as he thought of his new family, "She is well. She was understandably tired for the first few days but she and Rickard are getting stronger every day. The boy is Tully in color and Stark in face, and the noise he makes when displeased…" He made a noise that was half angry cry and half wolf's howl before breaking into a laugh, "All wolf that one."

Ben grinned, "Of course! What noise would an angry fish make, anyway?" Brandon clapped him on the shoulder as they all laughed, even Ned.

Bran then turned to Lyanna, sobering as he did. He offered her his arm as he spoke gently, "I would see him."

Lyanna nodded and took his arm, Ned then led them to the nursery. The others followed at a respectful distance. Once in the nursery they found the young nursemaid holding the sleeping babe in question. After she handed Lyanna the infant, she curtsied to Brandon then Ned before leaving. They all looked down at him as he slept, the hint of brown hair was so dark it could be black and the makings of a Stark face were unmistakable. He could pass for no one but a Stark, but there was still a question that could hound all of them for years to come; who was the boy's father?

Brandon reached out a finger and gently stroked his cheek, the babe stirred then his eyes fluttered open and they were met with eyes as grey as a stormy sky. The babe looked at the four siblings as curiously as Brandon regarded him before settling on his mother and his eyes seemed to light up in joy. Brandon's voice was full of affection when he spoke, "Has he a name?"

Lyanna cooed down at the boy, "Jon."

Brandon looked at the boy and sighed. He was young, likely only a few weeks older than his son at the most. According to the letter Ned had sent from Storm's End, the child had been birthed before he arrived at the Tower, but likely by only a matter of days. Lyanna had been delirious after Jon's birth and had no idea how long she's been there. Ned had told Ben that they'd asked the Kingsguard but Dayne had only arrived two days before Ned and his men had and Whent and Hightower both refused to speak.

Jaime's letter prevented them from attacking Ned but they were sworn to Aerys Targaryen, they would not co-operate and they would not bend the knee to the new King. Brandon had dismissed them from the Kingsguard and sent them to the Wall.

Ben knew what his brother must have been thinking, there was simply no chance this child was anyone's but Rhaegar Targaryen's. Still he turned to their sister, "Lyanna, is there a chance… any chance that-"

Stannis Baratheon coughed from the doorway. They turned to him as one and he spoke, "Could I see the child?" Lyanna ushered the young man forward and he looked at the infant in her arms for a long moment. Tension seemed to fill the room until he finally said, "Just as I suspected, Your Grace. You brought me here to Winterfell to see another of Robert's children." They all looked at him in shock while the Lord of Storm's End nodded to himself. "Looks just like Renly did as a babe."

He then gave Lyanna a knowing look. He understood the chaos that a bastard Targaryen in the Stark line could cause for the realm. By proclaiming the child a bastard of his late brother, Stannis was offering them a chance to circumvent that chaos. Lyanna spoke gently, "Lord Baratheon, I apologize if… my tryst with your brother offended you. I do not ask anything of House Baratheon as Lord Stark has graciously offered to see after Jon."

Stannis gave her a crisp nod, though if Ben was not mistaken it was not as rigid as he might expect. "I take no offense, Lady Stark."

As Stannis turned to leave, Brandon said. "You have my thanks, both as the King and as Lyanna's brother." The Lord of Storm's End left quietly.

They were quiet for a while after that, even Jon though he was content to have a tiny fistful of his mother's hair. Finally Ben spoke, "Jon Snow… It will be a hard life for him."

Brandon shook his head, "Jon Stark. He's one of ours; there is no need for him to carry a bastard's name."

Lyanna looked up at her eldest brother and smiled, "Thank you, Bran."

With the matter of Jon Stark settled, Ben felt as though another of the many weights upon them lifted. So it was little surprise to Ben that his oldest brother turned to him with a lighter expression, "Now, mayhaps we should discuss why our youngest brother feels inclined to trade a grey cloak for a black one."


	4. Stannis

Stannis had been to a few weddings in his nineteen years, but this was the first time he'd attended as a Lord. His brother likely would have enjoyed something like this far more than he; Robert loved any kind of celebration after all. Still it was not as gaudy as a wedding in the south. They had been served honeyed chicken, an elk that the King had killed the day before and a spit-roasted boar that Stannis himself had killed on the same hunting expedition.

There was wine and ale and mead from every corner of the North and the Vale as well as two casks of a dornish red that Cressen had insisted he bring in addition to his wedding gift, a gyrfalcon much like "Thunderclap," the falcon Robert had as a boy.

Lord Manderly had brought minstrels with him from White Harbor, though Stannis wasn't sure as to their quality as he was certain they'd played "Black Pines" twice already and the feast was still young. Then again, they'd also played "The Night That Ended" twice both time at the request of the Umbers and both times had received a cheer from the Northmen in the Great Hall.

Primarily, it seemed the great pastime at a feast in the North was story telling. There were several groups gathered in circles each telling a story. By the boar, Jon Umber and his brother Hother were telling several men of house Umber, Karstark and Manderly about the defeat of Raymun Redbeard. By the mead, Ethan Glover was in the midst of recalling the Battle of the Bells to Harrion Karstark and some the free riders that came with the Lannister party.

Jaime Lannister had nearly a dozen young men and boys around him as he recounted his battle with the Smiling Knight and at the base of the High Table; the King's sister had a gathering of children around her as she recounted a tale of one of the other Stark Kings named Brandon. Though which King Brandon, Stannis wasn't sure.

Stannis' gaze continued on to the High Table and landed on Eddard Stark and his new bride. The pair were uncomfortable, but he found that understandable. They were married less than a day after meeting and Stannis doubted either expected to marry the other before a moon's turn ago. He'd heard Jon Arryn and the King discuss it while they traveled the King's Road: Cersei had been groomed to marry Rhaegar Targaryen since she was a toddler and Ned had pursued Arthur Dayne's sister, Ashara prior to the War. He had been free to do so, Ned had been a second son like Stannis making worth very little in a political marriage.

Had Aerys still been King and Brandon Lord of Winterfell Ned likely would have been tasked with holding a keep and commanding the Stark army. He could have married Ashara Dayne and happily sire children with her. Now, Ned was the Lord Paramount of the North and third in line to the Throne should something happen to his brother and nephew. By marrying the Lannister girl he would help bind the Realm together.

Next to the new Lady of Winterfell were her parents. Stannis was unsure what to think of stony Tywin Lannister. He admired Lannister's stern rule and keen mind but a part of him resented that he held the Lannister forces back. A small voice that sounded like his young brother Renly pointed out that if Tywin had declared for the Rebellion earlier perhaps Robert would still live. Then again, if Lannister had declared for the Targaryens, he and Renly would likely be in the ground next to Robert right now.

Lannister's wife was comely, fair of hair enough to remind people that she was a Lannister by birth as well as marriage. Unlike her husband, Lady Lannister seemed to be enjoying herself. She spoke kindly to the Starks and Jon Arryn and his young wife, she smiled at her daughter and son freely and even earned a few moments from her husband where his stern expression would falter and soften when he looked at her.

At the other end of the table sat the youngest Stark, Benjen. The boy was a man grown, barely. He was dressed in a grey doublet emblazoned with the Direwolf. He seemed to take more after Eddard than Brandon or Lyanna judging by the way he sat quietly with Jeor Mormont and two other brothers of the Night's Watch. The youngest Stark had held Winterfell on Brandon's orders much as Stannis had for Robert.

True, Winterfell was never under siege as Storm's End had been but Benjen did have to make sure that the North was secure despite every house being severely depleted while Quellon Greyjoy sat on Pyke with all his men until the war was almost won for the Rebellion. It was respectable.

At the center of the table sat the new Lord and Lady of Winterfell. Eddard Stark was much as Stannis expected after the way Robert, Jon Arryn and the King spoke of him. Quiet and reserved, even at his wedding. An occasion that Stannis had heard that allowed for even the most reserved men to find themselves acting shamefully.

Stannis had not spoken to his late brother's friend often but he could understand why Robert had trusted him so by watching him with the King. Brandon was not that all that different from Robert, a bit more serious perhaps but quick to lose his temper and just as quick to laugh.

Brandon had held Court the day after they arrived at Winterfell and Lord Tallhart had brought a poacher from the Wolfswood who had been caught killing a deer. Tallhart had explained that while they were apprehending the poacher he killed a Tallhart man. Brandon had known the lad and was so angered he called for Ice. Before that could happen Eddard had pleaded with his brother, the poacher was a father of a young daughter. He begged the King to show a small leniency by sending the man to the Wall and the girl to foster at Torrhen's Square instead.

Eddard was skilled at tempering his older brother and Stannis was sure he'd been just as adept at the same task when it came to Robert.

Lastly, there was Cersei Stark. Formerly of House Lannister, Stannis could see how poised and practiced the young beauty was. She seemed unflappable; despite being married to a man she didn't know after her father's ambitions for her were thwarted by the folly of the Mad King and his fool son. She even managed a few stiff smiles for her husband. He wondered how she would acclimate to the North after spending her years being groomed to be a lady of King's Landing.

A chair scraping broke him from his thoughts and he turned to find the King seated next to him, "Your Grace."

Brandon smiled, "Stannis. Are you at least trying to enjoy yourself?"

Stannis believed that the King had adopted him since he'd arrived in King's Landing to take over as Master of Ships. He always seems to ask for his counsel in meetings and also seemed to try and include him in his japes. Perhaps the King saw something of Eddard in Stannis. "I am trying, Your Grace. I am not one for celebrations."

Brandon laughed, "Robert had told us as much."

Stannis turned at that. He'd never spoken to the King or Jon Arryn about Robert. "He spoke of me? I am sure it was less than kind."

Brandon shook his head, "More unkind to himself. Robert admired how close I was with Ned, envied it even mayhaps. He cared for you and Renly a great deal. He admired your commitment to what was just and your ability to speak plainly. It was why I chose you for the Small Council. I know that in King's Landing, someone who can speak plainly to me will be as rare as gold."

Stannis found himself stunned at that, Robert had spoken of him kindly? His brother who never seemed to pass up a chance to mock his seriousness, admired him for it? He had much to think on, but he would not have the opportunity to think on it now.

As he and the King were speaking, Lyanna and Maester Luwin had ushered all the children out of the Great Hall. Not long after they were gone, Brandon stood up and made his way to the High Table and took his seat. The hall seemed to watch him as he shared a quiet word with the couple. Cersei flushed and nodded first and Ned's face turned serious before he too gave a nod, though Stannis could make out his ears turning red as he did so.

Brandon then filled his wine cup and stood, he raised his cup and the men and women in the Hall stood and raised theirs in return. He called out loudly, "To Eddard and Cersei." As one the hall raised their cups in answer. Brandon then tipped his cup to his lips and downed his wine. He slammed the empty cup on the table and called out, "Every sword needs a sheath!"

A cheer went up and the Lords and Ladies assembled descended upon the newly married couple.


	5. Cersei

Cersei was deposited in the Lord's Chambers with the cheer from the guests still ringing in her ears. The first men to reach her side were her new good brothers, Brandon and Benjen. The two Starks did as best they could to protect her virtue as her dress was pulled off of her. Still she wore little more than her shoes and a necklace by the time she arrived.

She walked across the room slowly taking it in as she did. There were several candles burning around the room; on the mantle, the bedside tables and the table by the large window. A jug of wine and two cups was on the table. There was a subtle and sweet smelling incense in the air and the fire in the fireplace gave the chilly night pleasant warmth.

The bed was large and covered in furs…

So large that in her mind the bed seemed to be menacing now, a monstrous thing that would forever bind her to the Starks and Winterfell. She quickly dismissed the thought for nervous paranoia aided by drink. This was the one act she hadn't done with Jaime for she knew for certain if she went into a marriage bed and her husband found that she was not a maiden that her father's fury would be unimaginable. Especially if it was found out Jaime had done the deed.

The door opened and she heard several drunken cackles as she turned to the door. Eddard Stark stood before her as naked as she was. She could admit, he was pleasing to the eye. Tall and broad-shouldered, his arms and chest were muscled. There was a pink scar that was about a hand's width long that ran from his left shoulder nearly parallel to his collar bone that spoke of the recently won war. She looked to his face, he was handsome. Not as handsome as his brother but much of that difference was due to Brandon's charisma.

His face was serious, even now when presented with her body. But she saw something in his eyes, something deep within the stormy grey depths.

Finally her eyes drifted down from his face. Past the scar on his chest, then past his stomach, and the sparse hair that started below his navel and led down further to the coarse hair between his legs and then… She felt her skin grow flushed when she saw his manhood and then it stirred-

"You are…" Her eyes jumped up to his at the sound of his voice and she could see he was awed, "You are so beautiful…" He trailed off and she could see pink splash his cheeks and even spread down his throat.

She felt her skin burn and she might have said something had there not been a sudden banging on the door followed by Hother Umber's voice calling to them, "Stop talking and tame the lion, Stark!"

She felt herself smile at her new husband, and his mouth twitched in return. He crossed the space between them slowly, when he stopped before her his hands came forward and entwined with hers. His eyes were nearly black as he began to lean down towards her.

A thousand thoughts passed through her mind as his lips neared hers. She thought of her father; he needed this marriage to bind his family and the new royal family. He imagined it would have been better for him if Brandon hadn't ridden for Riverrun after the Battle of the Bells to marry Catelyn Tully and leave her with their child. He might have been able to use the power he'd acquired and marry her to the King. She thought of Jaime, who'd been her other half her whole life. They had wounded each other with and for that bond. She could see that now.

Jaime would forever carry the weight of Aerys' death with him, even if Brandon had forgiven him. She had convinced him to join the Kingsguard; she would carry that weight forever as well. Now they were married to other people and Jaime was still furious though she was not sure if he was more furious with her or himself.

She thought of the things her mother had said in the wheelhouse, imploring her to try to make her marriage a happy one.

She thought of-

Ned's lips touched hers and she thought of nothing else. His kiss was so different from Jaime's, Jaime's were hungry and insistent but Ned's were something different. His fingers separated from hers and left a trail of heat up her arms. He drew her bottom lip into his mouth and nipped at it lightly with her teeth and the heat of his touch sparked within her.

Her hands came up and clutched at him. Her left hand pressing into his back while her right hand tangled in his hair in case he had any notion to break their kiss now. Then she pulled his body flush against her, she could feel him pressed against her stomach, the heat within her burning ever hotter at the feel of him.

She swallowed his groan and her tongue snaked out and found his. The effect was instantaneous; a guttural sound rolled in the back of her throat which was matched by a lower growl from him. His hands gripped the back of her thighs roughly and hauled her up against him and she sucked in a breath sharply through her nose in her pleasure. She swung her legs around him and hooked her heels together to hold on as her took three lurching steps towards the bedside.

Once there, he managed to deposit her at the head of the bed while they were still connected at the lips. Their kissing continued to become more intense and their touches more bold until finally her tore his lips from her. He bit lightly where her jaw met her throat just below her left ear and left the flesh ablaze as his lips and tongue conquered the flesh in a steady march south.

He paused at her left breast, giving attention to the pale flesh and the increasingly sensitive nipple and even underside of her breast before moving to the right breast. She shifted back into the pillows and furs and tangled her fingers in his hair. It was different, Jaime could spend all days enjoying her breasts but for Ned it seemed merely a pause as before she would've expected or even before she would have liked he tore himself from her breast and moved along the flesh of her stomach.

It wasn't until she felt his lips press just below her navel that she realized his final destination. Soon enough his kisses and bites found the top of the patch of hair she had above her sex, they skirted the hair slowly, teasingly even. This caused her hips to move as she tried to complete his journey for him but he resisted. She couldn't believe her husband would be this bold.

Wasn't this The _Quiet_ Wolf?

The one his family teased for being too reserved? Yet here he was, driving her mad and leaving the inside of her thighs slick with her own moisture. She felt his tongue flat against her thigh lapping at her wetness and her eyes rolled in her head and she moaned loudly. Then quite suddenly, his lips found her most sensitive spot.

They wrapped around her and he sucked.

_Hard._

Her whole body tensed and her hips bucked up so hard she was sure she might break her spine. Poise and decorum were completely abandoned when she let loose a howl that matched the Direwolf of her new house.

She gripped him rather roughly by the ears then and all but forced him up. Her body shivered as his flesh dragged along hers and she heard and felt his groan. His lips had a queer taste to them now that they were covered in her excitement but she found she didn't care. All she cared about was the part of him that was pressed between them.

She groped blindly between them and when her fingers finally wrapped around him he growled. She was insistent when he pressed the head against her entrance. She tore her lips from his and bit on his ear. Her voice was dripping with honey when she spoke, "I am ready, my lord." She then pressed both of her hands into his back to brace herself.

He pushed into her and there was a sharp pain, her eyes clenched shut as she tensed and her fingers dug into his flesh for a moment which caused both of them to freeze. She slowly eased her grip on his back and after a moment he began to move within her.

As the pain ebbed she began to answer his rhythm but before long she felt him shudder and tense. He continued to thrust for a while but eventually stopped. It was only then that she realized her eyes had fallen closed. When they opened she was looking up into gentle eyes that were nearly black. Whether from emotion or the darkness of the room she didn't know.

He climbed off of her and laid down beside her, he pulled the furs over them but did his best to keep eye contact with her. When he spoke, it was gently. "Are you hurt? I've been told that the first time is painful."

She propped herself up on her side and nestled into the bed, "I will be alright, thank you."

In the silence of their room, she thought back on the words her mother said as they rode to Winterfell. Her mother asked her to try and find happiness in her marriage, she decided then that she could try and perhaps Winterfell could feel like something other than a frozen wasteland.

She slowly and gently pushed on his shoulder until he was lying back then she pillowed her head on his chest and nestled against him. She had lain with Jaime like this but again she noticed it felt far different with Ned. However, she found it was not unpleasant and she hoped she would one day grow to like it.

#&amp;#

_Two things: First, don't get too used to author's notes, I don't really believe in them until I'm at the end of a story. _

_Second, I wished you had signed in "Somedude" I could have addressed you directly. Without saying too much, I can tell you that your concern will be addressed in the story. Not everyone was happy that a Northman took the Iron Throne._


	6. Theon

"By the Drowned God's balls, it's cold!" Theon Greyjoy's annoyed complaint turned to steam as it passed his lips. Will chuckled and nodded from his horse and Gared frowned while Ser Waymar Royce… Ser Waymar Royce ignored them. Again. He'd been ignoring them most of the day.

They'd rode from Castle Black nine days and eight nights ago, riding north and northwest on the trail of a band of Wildling raiders. This was far from Theon's first ranging, despite being several moon turns from his twentieth name day, he was an experienced brother. He and Will had sworn their vows the same day in the sept at Castle Black four years earlier.

Will had been a poacher and was a tracker without peer, even better than Theon himself though he was the better bowman. Since then each of them had trekked beyond the Wall dozens of times, both separately and together.

Gared had been a brother of the Watch almost twice as long as Theon had drawn breath and he'd been on rangings to nearly every corner of the land beyond in that time. He was well past fifty and looked exactly as one would expect of a man who'd spent so long at and beyond the Wall.

Grizzled and bearded, his hair and hood covered that he lost both ears, in addition to the small finger on his left hand to Maester Aemon's knife after the cold had damaged them beyond repair. Gared had taught most of the rangers the terrain of the land and his advice was respected nearly as much as Maester Aemon.

Unfortunately, Gared did not command this ranging. Nor did Will or even Theon himself. They were under the command of Ser Waymar Royce. Dressed in fine black ring mail that still glinted in the waning sun light, with black leather boots and black moleskin gloves under one of the finest black cloaks Theon had even seen, Waymar was the third son of a lesser lord and not likely to inherit so like many of the knights in the Watch he'd been sent to the Wall. He'd taken his vows less than six months ago and he was still a green boy according to Lord Commander Mormont.

Unfortunately he was a green boy from a powerful family in the Vale and if they wanted more men from the Vale that meant Waymar would be given a chance to lead. Still, the Old Bear showed enough wisdom to surround Waymar with three of his more experienced men for this ranging.

They would do their duty and not chafe under the leadership of a boy that they probably laughed at into their wine cups while mocking. They'd bring Royce and themselves back to Castle Black intact with little in the way of difficulty like countless rangings before.

Theon had been sent as a boy by King Brandon I. Theon was an ironman before he'd taken the Black, like his father, uncles and older brothers before him. The Greyjoys had ruled the Iron Islands for centuries, both before and after Aegon had rode his bloody dragon all over Westeros. He could still recall the Greyjoy words; "We Do Not Sow." It was those words that compelled the iron born again and again to sail from the Iron Islands to conquer and pillage the rest of the Kingdoms.

His father had rallied the iron born to the call of the raids ten years ago and led them out. However, after burning the Lannister Fleet and taking several villages they were met with the full fury of the Seven Kingdoms. He could still remember the Stark and Lannister banners flying outside his window as the largest army he'd ever seen descended on Pyke. The Baratheon Fleet sank the bulk of the Iron Fleet, leaving his brothers and Uncle Aeron dead in their wake. While Jaime Lannister bested his Uncle Victarion on the deck of The Iron Victory before putting torches to the Flag Ship of their fleet.

From there, the Stark and Lannister armies crushed each of the Islands until all that remained was he, Asha and his mother and father. They were the ones left to pay the price. The Starks and the Lannisters had dealt with the iron born many times over the centuries and it became clear both houses had tired of it so they had very little left in the way of mercy.

His father was beheaded in front of the Seastone Chair; he could vaguely recall his mother's wails as she was sent away with the Silent Sisters. His sister was married to Gawan Westerling's eldest son and the Westerlings were given dominion over the Iron Islands for their heroism during the rebellion. As for Theon, as the last male of his family it was decided he'd redeem the Greyjoy name by serving the Realm at the Wall.

His last sight of the Iron Islands that had borne him was of the Sea-Shell Banner flying from the towers of Pyke while he stood on the deck of a Baratheon ship before he was given to a wandering crow and spirited to The Wall.

He'd hated the Night's Watch for a long time as they represented the death of his family. He was as unruly as he could possibly be, and took a fair share of beatings as a result. A few months after he'd arrived he'd decided that he'd run away. He planned as well as a boy of eleven could plan it. He'd sneak out of Castle Black in the night and head for Eastwatch, he would then stowaway on a boat and wherever that boat landed he'd get off and prepare his revenge.

He'd become the greatest sell-sword in the Seven Kingdoms and form his own band and from there reclaim the Iron Islands and proclaim himself Lord Reaper and then he'd burn the Starks, the Lannister, the Baratheons and Tullys until there was nothing left.

He'd barely made it past the walls of Castle Black before Benjen Stark and Gared had found him. They brought him to the Old Bear and he'd informed Theon that if he was old enough to try to escape he was old enough to work. He spent the next year as Maester Aemon's steward; he read letters to the old blind man, made his tea, brought him his meals and helped him feed the ravens.

He didn't know when the change happened but he knew it was while he was Aemon's steward that he stopped thinking about escaping. Then he stopped thinking of the Brothers as his jailers and started thinking of them as his family. All he really knew was that when his fifteenth name day came and Lord Mormont told him he'd take his vows he felt pride instead of the anger he might have felt when he first came.

The cold gust of wind cut through him and brought his musing to a halt. He reached up and pulled his cloak into what he hoped was a warmer position. Gared scowled, "We should start back." He cut a look at Ser Waymar and said, "The wildlings are dead."

Ser Waymar finally turned his attention back to them, "What proof do we have?"

Gared bit out his reply "Will saw them. They're dead and we have no business with the dead."

Waymar brought his destrier to a halt and turned the horse until he faced them. When he did not speak, Gared pressed. "We have a long ride back to Castle Black and it is growing too dark to find our way back."

Waymar smirked, "'Dark' you say? It has been growing dark at about this time every day since we left the Wall. Are you unmanned, Gared?"

Gared's fury was all but boiling off him. No one spoke to the old man in this fashion, but still Theon could see there was perhaps something more than wounded pride, a feeling that perhaps Ser Waymar's question had merit to it.

Theon's eyes roamed the trees surrounding them and he realized he felt it too. A nagging sensation, as though they were being watched. He did not like it. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of his dagger and scowled. "Mayhaps… Mayhaps Gared's right."

Waymar rolled his eyes, "Not you too, Greyjoy. I thought you were experienced men, not green children."

Gared caught Theon's eyes and he nodded grimly, it was not an acknowledgment of Theon helping his argument though. It was recognition of the threat Theon was starting to feel. To Royce Gared said, "Mormont told us to track the wildlings and we have. We have a long ride ahead of us and if the weather turns it will be even longer. Ever seen an ice storm, m'lord? We should _go back_."

Waymar's voice turned flinty, "Not until I have _proof_ to take back to him." He turned to Will, "Tell me again, Will. What did you see?"

Will frowned, "Their camp is just over that hill. I got as close as I dared but it didn't matter. There were less than a dozen of them, men and women. They put up a lean-to and had a fire pit but it hadn't been used in at least a day judging by the layer of snow on them. I watched them a long time; no living man ever laid that still."

Waymar looked in the general direction of the came with a frown, "Did you see any blood?"

"None."

Waymar scoffed, "Any weapons?"

Will nodded as he spoke, "Aye, a couple swords and bows. One of the bigger ones had a rather mean looking axe lying right next to him."

Waymar turned back to him, "Did you note the positions of the bodies?"

Will frowned, "They were scattered around the camp where they had fallen."

Waymar scowled, "As though sleeping?"

Will shook his head, "Fallen, even their far-eyes in the tree."

Gared grunted, "It was the cold that got in 'em." They all turned to Gared, "Old maids always talk about snows deep enough to bury a man but the real danger is the cold. The cold is quiet as it sneaks up behind you. It slowly fills you and you stamp your feet and inch closer to the fire dreaming of a mulled wine and warm beds. Then after a while, it's not so bad and you close your eyes, go to sleep and never wake again."

Waymar chuckled, "Who knew you had a poet's tongue in you, Gared."

He pulled his hood back, showing them the scared stumps where ears had once been. "I've had the cold in me too, Royce. Two ears, three toes and the small finger on me left hand. I got away lightly too, they found my brother dead at his post with a smile on his face."

Theon frowned, "If Gared was right and it was the cold-"

Waymar turned back to Will as he cut off Theon's words, "Will? Did you draw a watch before we left Castle Black?" Will nodded at the ridiculous question. Waymar should have known as well as anyone that everyone draws watches on the Wall far too frequently. "How did you find the Wall?"

Will frowned slightly but then he seemed to understand, "Weeping, m'lord."

Waymar turned back to Gared, "The Wall is still weeping. It could not be cold enough to kill them all. Maybe a sickly or old person but the men and women we were tracking were healthy by all reports." He smiled smugly, "Will, take Greyjoy and I to them. I would see our dead men." He turned back to Gared, "Stay with our horses, and no fire. I won't have them alerted."

The three rangers dismounted and made their way up the hill. The snow was already knee deep this far north and the trees were dense. Theon and Will here armed with daggers but Ser Waymar had a two-handed sword which was getting tangled in the branches as they moved along. Just as they reached the crest of the hill Theon and Will crouched down and when Waymar reached them he crouched down as well…

But only for a moment as they saw that the camp was completely abandoned. Ser Waymar stood up with a laugh, "'No living man ever laid that still,' eh?"

Will scowled at the empty camp, "I don't understand."

Waymar pointed to a nearby sentinel, "Up the tree, Will. Find where they've gone. Come Greyjoy, we'll search the camp." As Will started up the tree, Theon and Waymar made their way down the hill into the camp. It was just as Will had described; the lean-to and the fire pit. He even found the double-bladed axe. All that was different was that the wildlings were gone.

A cold wind blew through the camp and Theon's hand went to his dagger again. The hair on the back of his neck had risen though it had nothing to do with the wind. They _were_ being watched.

The knight pulled his sword from the sheath, "Who goes there?" Theon pulled his dagger from its scabbard and he watched with horror as frost begin to form on the blade. Waymar called out again, "Will! Can you see anything? Why is it so cold?"

Theon knew why, he could hear their horses panicking over the hill but it was nearly impossible to hear over the roaring of the blood in his ears. If only he carried a horn. "Waymar!"

Waymar whirled towards the trees to his left, "Who goes there?! Come no further!" That's when Theon saw it. A tall, gaunt shadow stood just inside the tree line. The shadow moved forward and Theon could see its flesh was pale, pale as a corpse. The armor it was wearing seemed to shift in color under the waning daylight and the long blade it carried shimmered in the same fashion. Just past the creature, Theon could make out more of the _Others_. He had to admit it, if only to himself. _These monsters are The Others._

Suddenly the first creature surged forward, swinging its blade. Waymar brought his sword up and the sound the blades made when they met was horrifying. The rest of the creatures began to step out of the shadows of the trees. Will leapt from the trees at one of them, swinging his dagger as he did. Theon's brother and friend was quickly cut down.

Waymar met a second blow from the Other which staggered him. He screamed, "GO! Tell Mormont!" Theon turned and ran from the camp.

He climbed the hill and saw Gared already mounting his horse. He yelled out, "It's the fucking Others! We have to-" A searing pain in his back and chest robbed the air from him. Theon looked down and saw one of the strange blades thrusting out of his stomach coated in blood. He tasted blood on his tongue as he looked up and watched Gared ride off to tell the Watch. The blade was yanked out of him and he slumped into the snow. Theon's last thoughts were of Pyke, he would have liked to see the place of his birth one more time.


	7. Bran

It was cold that morning, the kind of cold that Old Nan claimed hinted that summer was ending. Bran Stark found that idea exciting since he'd never known any other season in his seven years. He'd rode out with his father, his squire Cley Cerwyn, his older brother Robb and his cousins; Rickard and Jon. Along the road they met up with Jory Cassel and Fat Tom.

Jon had lived with his mother, Bran's aunt, at Winterfell since he was born. Dark haired and serious, Jon actually looked more like Bran's father than Bran or Robb. He and his brother had taken their father's Stark face but they had the green eyes and golden hair of their mother. As for Rickard, Bran was told he looked very much like his father the King, with his mother's auburn hair and blue eyes.

Rickard had come to Winterfell not long after Bran's birth to foster with father and learn of his northern heritage. Bran often asked his mother and father if that meant he might be allowed to foster in King's Landing, when he did his father would often smile and ruffle his hair then tell him that he'd consider it.

His father was not smiling now; he had worn his Lord's face since they left Winterfell not long after dawn. Bran couldn't help but feel nervous when his father had woke him and told him to dress in the pre-dawn twilight. They were riding north along the King's Road to administer the King's Justice and this was the first time his father felt he was old enough to witness it. Despite the nerves, Bran felt pride swelling within him, this felt like his father's way of showing him he was no longer a child. He was becoming a man.

Father, Cley, Jory and Fat Tom were riding ahead of the group a ways while Robb, Rickard and Jon stayed back with him. Jon turned to Robb and spoke quietly, "Who do you think this man is?"

Robb ran his fingers through his blonde hair, causing it to go somewhat unruly. "A wildling, probably was caught when he jumped the Wall to scout for Mance Rayder."

Bran looked between the older boys with a frown, he'd never heard of Mance Rayder before. But if he was sending Wildlings over the wall did that mean he was King-Beyond-the-Wall? Suddenly, Bran's imagination went wild with Old Nan's tales of Raymun Redbeard and Gendel and Gorne.

He imagined himself as a man-grown, Robb, Rickard and Jon by his side as father leads a Northern army beyond The Wall to battle Mance Rayder at the head of an army of giants and snarks and grumkins and all manner of beasts. He pictured Rayder as a giant of a man, eight feet tall in fearsome armor and carrying a battle axe even bigger than Ice. He even imagined himself besting Rayder in single combat for the honor of the North in a fight that they eventually write songs about. He imagines them calling him "Brandon the Brave" in those songs.

Jon frowned, "Could be a thief?" Bran frowned at that, the idea of a thief wasn't nearly as exciting as a King-Beyond-the-Wall.

Robb seemed to agree with Bran as he scoffed, "A thief? The Warden of the North doesn't ride out to dispense justice for a mere thief. They'd bring him to Winterfell."

As Jon shrugged, Rickard ran a hand across the whiskers on his jaw. At fifteen, the Crown Prince of Westeros was practically a man grown. He had even taken to growing a "proper Northern beard" though it was not nearly as thick as father's or Uncle Benjen's beards. That did not stop Rickard from being incredibly proud of his, nor Jon and Robb from attempting to grow their own. "It's a deserter from the Watch."

Bran turned towards his cousin in shock. He'd grown up on tales of the men of the Night's Watch, he'd begged for stories of their heroism when he was still but a child. One of the reasons he'd become so excited when the first summer snow came was that Robb and Jon had promised to teach he Arya and little Tommen their favorite game to play as boys: Defend The Wall.

He even had moments of fancy where he imagined riding north to Castle Black and becoming a brother of the Watch. The very idea of a brother deserting was offensive to him. Without realizing it, the question on his mind bubbled out of him. "Why would any man desert the Night's Watch?"

Robb and Jon shared a look and some sort of grin that Bran didn't quite understand but Jon sobered and said; "Not all men are as honorable as Starks, Bran."

Bran considered this as they rode up to Ser Rodrik in front of a small holdfast. His father and the old knight talked quietly and Rodrik gestured to a man tied up to the wall. He looked at least as old as Ser Rodrik and he was dressed in black clothes that were tattered and dirty. Bran also noticed the man was missing his ears. Father dismounted and walked over to the man with Jory, Rodrik and Rickard. Rodrik gestured to the prisoner and he spoke to his father in a voice that was too low for Bran to hear for a few moments.

When it seemed his father had heard enough he gestured to the man, Jory stepped up and cut him down from the wall. He then led the man over to a nearby iron wood stump. He heard Jon's horse as he led him alongside Bran. He then spoke in a whisper. "Keep your pony well in hand; he'll try to run at the smell of blood. Don't look away; your father will know if you do."

Jory and Fat Tom forced the man down until his head rested on the stump. Bran saw his eyes were closed and the boy wondered if the man was praying or simply didn't want to look. His father stepped up to the stump as well and called for Cley. The squire brought forth Ice, the Stark Family Blade, and held the hilt out to him.

He then spoke loudly, "In the name of Brandon of the House Stark, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of I, Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I do sentence you to die." In a smooth motion he pulled the great sword from the scabbard with both hands and lifted it high above his head.

Bran tightened his grip on the reins of his pony then took a deep breath and held it. In a mighty swing of the blade, he ended the man's life. Blood stained the snow as the man's head rolled away. Quite the opposite of Jon's warning, Bran found he couldn't look away. He could only watch as more and more of the snow around the stump turned red.

It wasn't until they started to ride away that Bran was able to tear his eyes from the sight. He rode along in silence with Jon and Robb for a while before his brother broke the silence. "He died bravely, I think."

Jon shook his head, "I saw his eyes as they forced him down onto the stump. He was nearly mad with terror." As close as Jon and Robb were, they were very different. Jon was quiet and solemn, his grey eyes seemed to peer into your soul, he was lean and quick looking compared to Robb's thicker more muscular frame.

Robb grinned, "The Others take his eyes!" He was quick to smile or laugh, mother often compared him to her brother Jaime while father and Aunt Lyanna said he took after the King. He gripped his reins tighter, "Race you to the bridge?"

Jon gave his cousin a rare smile and said, "Done." With a snap of the reins from Robb and a sharp spur from Jon the pair took off ahead kicking up snow in their wake. Bran didn't try to keep up, not only did he doubt his smaller pony could keep pace with them he found himself still thinking on the man his father had executed and Jon and Robb's debate about his dying moments.

He felt rather than heard his father and Rickard pull up alongside of him, when he looked up he noticed that his father had finally put away his Lord's face. Rickard seemed lost in thought as he rode, "Are you alright, Bran?"

Bran nodded, "Yes, father. Robb said the man died bravely but Jon said he was afraid."

His father took a moment to smooth his beard. The brown hair had quite a bit of white in it, more than when Bran was as young as Tommen but not nearly as white as Ser Rodrik. "What do you think?"

His father often did this, Bran wondered if he was trying to get him to think things through for himself, "Can a man be brave when he's frightened?"

Father smiled gently, "Absolutely, that is the only time a man can be brave." They rode for a while before he gave Bran a concerned look, "Do you understand why I did it?"

Bran frowned, "Robb thinks he was a Wildling. They carry off women and children."

The man laughed, "You've been listening to too many stories. The man was an oath breaker, a deserter. There is no more dangerous man than a deserter because he knows his life is forfeit, there is nothing a man like that would not do to escape. What I meant is; do you know why it was I that had to do it?"

Bran tried to think of the reason, he knew in the south that Lords like his grandfather had a headsman but father took the duty for himself. Finally he spoke, "Because our way is the old way?"

"Yes. We still have the blood of the First Men so we keep to the old ways but more importantly is this; the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If I have to sentence a man to die, I owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his last words. If I cannot do that, perhaps I am wrong to sentence him."

He looked Bran in the eye for a long time, "Someday you will be one of Robb's bannermen and he will ask you to hold a keep for him, you must always remember that it is your duty to hear the people in your care. Especially at a time like this. Do you understand?" Bran smiled and his father nodded, "Good. Now I should go make sure Robb and Jon have not found some sort of trouble."

He pushed ahead on his destrier, leaving Bran and Rickard alone. When he looked up into his cousin's face, he seemed troubled. "Are you alright, Rickard?"

The young man looked up then smiled gently at the question, "Yes. Thank you, Bran. I was just thinking about what the deserter told your father and I before he died."

Bran frowned, "What did he say?"

Rickard rubbed a gloved hand over his jaw, "I don't think you want to know."


	8. Cersei II

There was a quiet serenity to Winterfell in the morning that always took Cersei Stark by surprise, even after nearly fifteen years. In the stories she and Jaime would listen to as children, Northmen were always conquerors; giant loud men who would ride out of their snow-covered kingdom and crush all the civilized men that stood in front of them.

Then, as though to prove all of Uncle Gerion's stories true, the Wolves came out of the North and tore apart the Targaryen Dynasty over their father's death and sister's abduction. One of the brothers even took the Iron Throne and marched back to Winterfell with her promised to the other. It really was like the stories of one of the old Stark Kings, "Theon the Cruel" as Uncle Gerion told the tale. She even asked about him when she came to Winterfell, only for her husband to gently laugh and name him "The Hungry Wolf."

Her first experience with northmen did little to change her mind. Watching them drink and yell and sing and fight with each other only to call it celebration. The morning after she'd heard that after she and Ned were put to bed that the Umber and Karstark heirs had drank Jaime under the table then got in a fist fight only to sit next to each other at a table in the main hall laughing loudly and retelling the story to each other as though they hadn't been the ones to break each other's noses.

But when the boisterous visitors had left her husband's home and he said his farewells to his brothers, one for his throne and the other for the Wall, the serenity slowly asserted itself. In her mind, it started in the Godswood. She'd walked beneath the trees and felt her tensions ebb away. She'd came to a stop in front of the Heart Tree and looked at its face with curiosity, wondering what the northmen saw in them.

Ned had offered to build a Sept for her and the handmaidens she'd brought from Casterly Rock and she'd agreed and shortly after it had been completed a septon arrived and the man had helped her make a prayer of thanks to the Mother as she was growing heavy with Robb but as time went by she found she rarely set foot in there. Instead she'd walked the Godswood and the courtyard in the morning.

As she stepped out of the Great Hall she could hear the ring of Mikken's hammer against his anvil. She watched the broad-shouldered smith as he hammered away at a piece of iron. Already she could see he was forging a set of horse shoes, she remembered Ned had mentioned that he'd seen that her horse was in need of a new set of shoes and she could safely assume Mikken was hard at work making them.

The grey-haired man didn't pause in his work merely nodded between swings of his hammed, "Good morning, Lady Stark."

Cersei gave him a polite nod, "Mikken." She then moved along towards the stables and found here daughters. Her elder daughter, Joanna was happily brushing a young brown rounsey she favored. Joanna was eleven and her mother in miniature. She had the Lannister hair and eyes and even Cersei's face. Joanna was prim and proper and charming, her head was filled with songs and tales of chivalry. She took to Septa Mordane's lessons happily, always trying to be a "proper lady."

Though more than once in the last few weeks she'd seen Joanna cast looks at Ned's young squire, Cley when he wasn't looking at her or blush brightly when the boy did look her way. Cersei could remember being on the cusp of flowering and recognized her daughter's looks for what they were.

When she'd told Ned about it he frowned and talked of sending Cley back to Castle Cerwyn but she and Lyanna laughed and laughed and said that would only convince their daughter that her innocent crush was a forbidden love. Her good-sister just said, "You'll have her in your solar every day asking you to promise her to him. Is that what you desire, dear brother?" Cersei would remember the shade of white her husband's face took on for the rest of her days.

Arya was watching Hullen repairing a saddle with eager grey eyes. Arya was all Stark, her long face and untamed dark hair gave her an awkward look but Cersei doubted that would last forever. Lyanna often told Cersei that she had looked like that as a girl but eventually grew into her face. Arya shared more that her looks with her aunt, the girl was wild of spirit. She did not take to lessons with the septa well and would slip out of them. Without fail, Arya would be found in the practice yard watching Robb, Jon and Rickard work with swords or with Bran's bow.

Many thought that Arya took after her aunt in that regard as well but Cersei knew that at Arya's age she was wild also. Joanna and Arya had a stormy relationship some days, other days they were as close as she'd been with Jaime or Ned had been with his siblings. Today seemed closer to the latter than the former. She smiled at Joanna as she passed and came to stand next to her younger daughter, "Hello sweetling."

Arya smiled at her mother before turning back to watch Hullen work, "Hullen was showing me how to repair a damaged bridle!"

Hullen looked up, "I've long since given up chasing off Arya Underfoot, Lady Stark. It's much easier to just let her watch."

She gave the stable-master a nod and her daughter a fond smile, "My daughter is difficult to discourage." Hullen smiled but when she saw Arya frown, she wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders then whispered to her. "It's what I've grown most fond of when it comes to you, Arya."

When she stepped back she could see pink splashed across Arya's cheeks. She pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek then stepped back and held out her hand, "Come Arya, Joanna. You have lessons-"

They heard a delighted squeal outside the stables and an exasperated shout outside. "Tommen! By the Gods you are too much wolf even for me!"

When they stepped out of the stables, they found Lyanna with Tommen. At three years old, Tommen was full of laughter. He favored Cersei in color but she could see the Stark features in his plump face. Tommen was sweet-natured but also prone to finding adventures which he'd call "ventures." More often than not, Cersei called them trouble.

There was no dark, dirty corner of Winterfell he would not crawl through. No cat or dog he would not roll around with until both were tired and filthy or mud puddle he wouldn't happily jump in. Like the one he'd found just now.

He'd also grown quite fond of Lyanna. Her good sister did not mind, she had never married after the deaths of Robert and Rhaegar and with Jon nearly a man grown Tommen's affectionate nature was salve to her spirit.

Tommen smiled at his aunt toothily as he sat in the mud then slapped his hands against the brown water making a loud splash. He laughed loudly and wildly.

Cersei sighed half in exasperation and half in amusement, try as she might she could never truly be angry with Tommen. He held out her arms and cried, "Mama!"

She stopped her approach just shy of Tommen's reach, "My little pup." She kneeled down and smiled at him, "Do you enjoy baths so much that you need to have two or three a day?" Tommen just grinned. Cersei turned to Joanna and Arya, "Girls, take Tommen back to the baths and see that he's cleaned up before you bring him down for breakfast."

Arya and Joanna both started to protest, but her younger daughter must have realized that they would miss lessons as a result and blurted, "Of course, mother!" Joanna gave two scandalized shouts, first when Arya agreed to that and a then when Tommen wrapped a mud coated hand around hers before she and Arya led Tommen off.

Cersei stood back up and turned to Lyanna, the woman smiled at her and they continued across the courtyard towards the Godswood. Just as they neared the library tower there was a commotion ahead of them. Hodor appeared, looking near frantic. The gigantic stable boy was as sweet as he was strong and just as half-witted. He could only say one word, "Hodor." Cersei knew that wasn't his name, but neither she nor anyone else at Winterfell knew what "Hodor" meant.

His head whipped back and forth but when his eyes settled on Cersei he stopped dead, "Hodor!" He all but ran over to them and whined, "Hodor?"

Cersei tilted her head at the slow boy, "Are you all right, Hodor?"

He gripped her hand and tugged. Despite his strength his hold was gentle but insistent, "Hooodor!" Cersei had little choice but to follow him with Lyanna followed a step behind. He led her into the kennels and she saw they were empty. Farlan had taken the dogs out through the hunter's gate this morning in the hopes of teaching some of his pups the art of the rabbit hunt.

Once they were all the way to the back corner Hodor pointed into the corner and spoke excitedly, "Hodor! Hodor-Ho-dor!"

She looked down in the corner and found a huge lump of grey and brown and black. She thought perhaps it was a horse or cow for a moment but then it lifted its head and Cersei gasped. She heard Lyanna gasp behind her, "By the Gods!" Cersei's emerald eyes were locked with golden eyes. She couldn't speak, couldn't think. All she could do was breathe while Lyanna spoke, "It's a direwolf! A direwolf south of The Wall."

"Hodor." The stable boy agreed.

Cersei and the direwolf continued to stare into each other's eyes. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, at first it raced in a frightened manner but as the moments passed and the direwolf did not tear her throat out she began to calm herself. Now the sound of her blood was a slow, steady sound. She took in the animal's appearance and suddenly she understood why she had taken refuge in the back of the warm dry confines of the kennels.

She was heavy with a littler of pups, "It's about to be more than one."

She heard the sound of approaching footsteps and heard the Alyn's voice behind her, "Good Gods."

She didn't turn from the wolf, a part of her was afraid of what would happen if she did so she spoke gently. "I want meat brought out and some fresh water in a basin then post a guard, Ned should see this."


	9. Tyrion

Six men rode north out of Moat Cailin on the King's Road. _Well, five and a half to be fair to my compatriots_ thought Tyrion Lannister with a wry grin. Three were Lannister guards sent with him by his father, Lum and Lester he knew but the third guard was new and likely assigned by his father to keep him out of the brothels judging by his sour face and equally sour demeanor. Then there was Whitesmile Wat, a singer with a high sweet voice but a rather poisonous wit and the "bad" habit of finding and bedding nearly every whore in the Westerlands… That Tyrion himself hadn't already visited that is.

Lastly there was his "squire" young Podrick Payne. Podrick had been foisted upon him by his dear brother, Jaime. He was a sweet boy who had a rather unfortunate habit of not looking anyone in the eye, which would've made for a terrible squire for Jaime. However, since Tyrion rarely needed armor cleaned or his sword sharpened (he didn't even really have a sword if he was being honest) he was serviceable. He was also a bit of a stumbletongue which seemed to cause him to be almost mute.

They had left from the Rock three weeks ago at a leisurely pace, stopping at Ashemark, the Golden Tooth and Pinkmaiden for a night each before they rode to Acorn Hall. From there they rode for the Crossroads, they spent the night at the inn they found there before riding north on the King's Road.

Tyrion was enjoying the trip, his third to Winterfell. The first trip had been when he was still a boy; he and his mother had gone there to see Cersei and Ned's first child, Robb. He'd received a polite welcome from Ned Stark and a slightly chilly one from his sister. They'd never been as close as he was to Jaime after all. However, he'd fallen in love at first sight with the library at Winterfell. There were dozens of books he'd never seen and more than a few he'd been told were lost to the world.

In the fortnight he and his mother had stayed he'd devoured every book he could, he'd even asked Ned at breakfast two days before they were to leave if he could stay to keep pouring through the library. His mother had given him a fond smile while his good brother just said that he'd have to talk about it with Cersei. Cersei had denied him though rather more gently than he would have expected and said that if he wished to return in the future to partake in the library he would be welcome.

The second trip to Winterfell was six years ago, Tyrion had been a different man at eight and ten compared to who he was at two and ten. His reputation preceded him this time so he was unsurprised when Cersei had pulled him aside and warned him if she learned of him setting foot in the brothel in Winter Town he'd never be welcome anywhere north of the neck ever again. He promised her he would restrain himself and managed to keep it.

Perhaps due to the four hundred year old book that was the history of a Stark King that spent his reign putting down the invasion of the Andals, directly translated from runes by a Winterfell maester. Or just as likely the long conversation he had with Lyanna Stark and her young son about the book.

This time he wasn't going to Winterfell empty handed. Tyrion had commissioned Maester Creylen to transcribe _The Lives of Four Kings_. He might have been able to spend enough gold to acquire one of the four remaining copies written by Kaeth but the book had become as priceless as Valyrian steel meaning the owned might hesitate when presented with their asking price. He hoped by offering the book to Ned that the man would understand just how much his hospitality and fair treatment meant to Tyrion.

After a few days at Winterfell, he was going to continue north until he'd seen the Wall and then turn east to East Watch then sail south to King's Landing and return home. He'd be gone for almost a year before he saw the Rock again and the prospect excited him. He doubted he'd ever marry and although Jaime would find many ways to put Tyrion to work for the family, while his father still drew breath Casterly Rock was not a pleasant place for him.

Truthfully, Tyrion had found few places that were pleasant for a dwarf, or at least Tywin Lannister's dwarf. His father had been a stern man and while his mother was able to sooth him by the time Tyrion was old enough to understand the world around him his father was far too set in his ways to be anything but stern.

His mother was as good and loving a mother as he could ask for. She always had a smile for him or a hug or loving touch. Even now he could expect her kindness and he always tried to repay that in any way he could.

His two older siblings had each taken after one of his parents, Cersei their father and Jaime their mother. Jaime was often Tyrion's only friend and when father had brought him home after the rebellion Tyrion momentarily forgot his father's nature and tearfully hugged the Lord of Lannister about the shin crying out, "Thank you! Thank you, father!"

When his father was not within hearing distance Jaime would gleefully describe how his father looked absolutely baffled before giving a nearly perfect imitation of their father sputtering, "T-that's quite enough, Tyrion." Jaime had also introduced Tyrion to perhaps his most enjoyable vices during a trek to King's Landing when he was fifteen.

They'd come to attend a tourney to celebrate the birth of the King's daughter, Sansa. Jaime was there to take part in the joust and Tyrion was there to cheer his brother on. There was a feast the night before the tourney was set to begin that was attended by more knights than the youngest Lannister had ever seen at one time. Tyrion then learned why he'd grow so found of tourney knights in the years to come; where there were knights, there was wine.

Once he had a belly-full his brother bid him to follow and Jaime led him out of the Red Keep through tunnels he'd learned of during his time in the Kingsguard. Once out into the night air his brother laughed and led him through the streets of King's Landing until they found the Street of Silk. Tyrion remembered his cheeks being aflame as his brother led him into a building with a pink rose over the door.

Jaime sat him down at a table then slapped nearly two dozen dragons down and told the women there to treat his brother as though he were a king that night and he'd return in the morning. Tyrion's brother found him rather disheveled and proud of himself when he returned in the morning.

Tywin's anger had been fierce when they eventually returned to the Tower of the Hand but Jaime defended him saying, "You may have little desire to be Tyrion's father but that does not mean I will not be his brother." Tyrion believed that was the first time Tywin's relationship with Jaime showed signs of being anything less than ideal to Tyrion.

It might have also been part of the reason Tyrion had decided on this long trip. Tywin had recently decided to return to Casterly rock after years serving King Brandon; first as Hand prior to the Greyjoy rebellion then for the last three years as Master of Laws after the death of Jon Arryn. Lady Lannister had returned home two months prior to her husband with word of his impending return and Tyrion had decided a few days later to visit Winterfell, and King's Landing and finally see The Wall and if his journey began only a few days after the planned return of Lord Tywin then that was probably just happenstance.

Lem's voice shook him from his thoughts, "Seven hells! Snow in summer; we're in the North for sure."

Tyrion looked up at the lightly falling snow with a smile, "A land of Wolves and Giants and Bears, oh my."

Pod turned to him with a frown, "G-g-giants, m'lord?"

Tyrion laughed, "The crest of the Umbers is a Giant breaking free of chains. We won't see any real giants until we reach the Wall and if we do I intend to piss on their heads from the top!"

Lester laughed loud and hard, "I've always wanted to eat a mammoth."

Lem nodded, "They say grumkin steaks are delicious."

Pod was growing paler with every word of jest the men shared but when the last guard spoke in a gruff voice he started turning green, "I've always wanted to eat a snark. Think they're better roasted or in a stew?"

Whitesmile barked out a laugh, "I hope we have the chance to find out." He then began strumming his lute and singing "A Cask of Ale."

The rest of that day's ride was more companionable.


	10. Eddard

Inside the godswood of Winterfell beneath the giant weirwood sat Lord Eddard Stark. He'd discarded the heavy cloak he'd worn that morning and tucked his gloves into his belt. In one hand was his family's Valyrian steel greatsword and the other hand was an oil cloth. He ran the fabric carefully along the blade, cleaning the blade and making certain that there was no damage to the blade.

Most men would merely clean the blade and be done with it. Valyrian steel was known the world over for its strength and durability. No blade held an edge quite like a piece the spell-forged metal, nor shared its look. Since the Doom, many master smiths had tried to recreate the process and many less-honorable smiths had tried to mimic the look but the distinctive smoky black ripples in the metal could never be duplicated.

Ned Stark was not most men. He'd never expected to hold Ice or wield the responsibility that went with the blade. Even after his father's death and Robert's call to war he expected to act as Brandon's right hand to whatever end their rebellion found. Then after the Trident, as Robert lay dying in his bed he called Brandon, Jon and himself into his tent and said that they had to decide who amongst them would sit the Iron Throne when they took King's Landing.

Ned had suggested Stannis at first, he held the same claim as Robert but it was uncertain if he'd even hold Storm's End at the time. Jon worried that Stannis was younger than even Ned and Robert felt that it should be one of the men who led the Rebellion.

Brandon then suggested Jon, he'd been the first man to rally to Robert's side and had been a leader in the Rebellion, he'd even held a blood tie to the Targaryen's through Aegon the Third. Jon said that was no good as his claim would be through Rhaenyra and that the Arryn's had supported of her claim to the throne in the Dance of the Dragons. If he took the Throne many would likely see this as no different from the Blackfyre Rebellions.

That was when Robert and Jon said it should be Brandon. Ned and his older brother both scoffed at the idea, Brandon had intended to stay just long enough to put a crown on Robert's head then find Lyanna and go home. Brandon longed for the sight of Winterfell and the embrace of Catelyn. To say nothing of lacking any claim to the Throne by blood, Brandon even said it would more sense for he and Ned to put the swamps of The Neck to the torch and declare himself the King of Winter than it would for him to sit the Iron Throne.

Jon and Robert were adamant however and after Robert died, Jon had told their men that it was Robert's dying wish to see Brandon sit the Throne. After that, there was little they could do as they were trapped by their honor. To do anything other than follow Robert's wish would be against everything they were raised to believe in, so Brandon sat down on that monstrosity of Aegon's and let their garishly dressed septons anoint him in queer smelling oils and declare him King of Westeros.

Brandon had described the affair with something akin to horror; much like what Ned had felt when Brynden Tully had described the knighting ceremony to him when he was young. All that pomp just to say a man fought well. The coronation for the Kings of Winter by contrast was rather simple. The new King and his bannermen would gather in this very godswood under the Heart Tree and he would kneel in front of one of his family members or banner men then swear to protect the Realm, to provide order to the People, and to provide Justice to the wicked. Then the crown would be placed upon his head and he would rise as his men knelt. Then they were done with it, no parades or passing under crossed-swords. The weight of the crown was a solemn thing.

He turned the blade over and ran the cloth over the blade one last time before he sheathed the weapon and carefully set it aside. He turned back to the weirwood and stared into the carved face before he closed his eyes in prayer.

"_They killed the others... Will… Waymar… Theon…_"

The Night's Watch deserter's words had not shaken him at first until he'd told him his name. Gared had been Benjen's friend and a trusted brother, for him to desert the Wall in terror disquieted Ned. Then he told his story.

"_I knew what I was supposed to do._"

They'd tracked a band of raiders north of the Wall for nine days only to find them dead. He'd described the cold settling in, the sounds they made and his one terrifying glimpse of them as he made his escape.

"_I knew my duty._"

He'd made it back to Castle Black in the middle of the night and told the sentries he'd report to Mormont the next morning but instead he slipped out of the castle in the middle of the night and ran south.

"_But all I could think about was their eyes… so I ran._"

He'd trained nearly every Ranger the Watch had for thirty years but when he was faced with the enemy they'd sworn to defend Westeros from fear overtook him.

"_If you have any sense, you'll run too._"

On the ride back to Winterfell he'd hoped for something, but he was not sure what. He'd never believed in signs; that was more something Benjen or Lyanna believed in. When he prayed, it was as much to find a calm moment as it was for the Gods' favor. Then they rode through the gates into the courtyard and he'd found a commotion at the kennels.

Joanna and Arya had all but yanked him off his mount and dragged him across the yard by the hand. They led him inside to find his wife and sister there watching the kennel master timidly inspect the drowsy form of a direwolf and a litter of nursing pups. It seemed that the pups were born not long after he'd killed Gared if he was guessing correctly.

He started to wonder then as he'd looked down at the animal that his family had taken as their sigil centuries ago, unseen on their side of the Wall in living memory, lying contentedly as her pups began their lives.

His children had begged to keep them while Ser Rodrik advised him to give the beasts a quick death. As he'd started to agree with Rodrik his nephew Jon pointed out that there were five pups, three boys and two girls matching two the number of his children. By the hopeful looks on his children's faces he knew he was defeated.

He'd tried to sound stern as he instructed them not to try and separate the pups from their mother until she was ready to wean them and even then they would be responsible for their care before he told Farlan not to aid them beyond advice in the hopes of saving face. Then he left, but as he left he'd heard Bran say to Jon that there was a sixth pup and that it should be his.

He spoke to his other nephew briefly to make sure Rickard was alright before he'd handed his squire his cloak then asked Cley for Ice and entered the godswood. He'd needed the calm only the Heart Tree could provide him to digest all that had happened.

He heard the sound of rustling leaves and looked up to find Cersei. She was still as beautiful as she'd been that day in the courtyard when Lord Tywin had ushered her out of the wheelhouse by the hand and presented her to him. She was far more beautiful than he had any right to, but time and a family had helped them build their marriage bit by bit.

Her blonde hair caught the light even here and shone like gold as it tumbled down over her shoulders and her green eyes were endlessly deep. She wore Lannister red today, though it was trimmed with white and hinted at the tops of her breasts which served to draw attention to the white gold direwolf that hung from her necklace. It was a gift from her mother for their wedding similar his Good Mother's own Lannister necklace. Over her shoulders was a black cloak lined with white fur.

She smiled at him gently and he said the words he so often found himself saying when he saw her. "You are so beautiful."

She laughed lightly, "You are a flatterer, Eddard Stark."

He felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, "I only speak the truth, My Lady." She stopped in front of him, standing between his feet. She held out her hands to him and he took them lightly. Her hands were small and delicate compared to his but this was deceptive since Lady Stark had a will of steel. As her thumbs drifted casually over his knuckles he asked, "How are the children?"

She squeezed his hands and said, "Still in the kennels, awestruck by the direwolf and attempting to name her little balls of fur."

He pulled her down into his lap and his arms wrapped possessively around her waist while her hands pressed against his chest, "What have they come up with?"

She smiled at him, "Robb has decided to name his Grey Wind, while Joanna has chosen the name Lady for hers. Arya chose the name Nymeria after all those stories she loves." They shared a chuckle as they thought of Arya's love for the tales of the Warrior Queen of Dorne.

She had begged Old Nan for her stories for years, before badgering Maester Luwin for her history as she grew older. "Brandon is still mulling a name and as for Tommen…" Cersei's smile turned wry before she finished, "Tommen has named his 'S'Woof da Bave' which Lyanna and I learned meant 'Ser Wolf the Brave.'"

They laughed for a moment before Cersei confirmed what he'd heard as he left. Brandon and Robb had insisted that Jon keep the last pup, an albino that he named "Ghost" before she said, "Joanna then informed me that the mother was to be called, 'Brightroar' in my honor."

He nodded but his thoughts kept going back to the deserter. He felt Cersei's fingers drift through his hair as she spoke in a gentle voice, "What troubles you, my love? The man you rode out to give justice to?"

He gave her a nod, "A deserter from the Night's Watch."

He looked up and saw her frown, it matched his own. "That's the fourth in a year?" He nodded solemnly, "Plus the three Jorah Mormont and Rickard Karstark executed?"

He nodded, "I've even heard word that a deserter made it as far as Greywater. That's more deserters than any year I can remember. There's also word of Wildlings making it past the Wall more frequently. Rodrik rode to Last Hearth a fortnight ago and met us on the road this morning. They believe this Mance Rayder has pronounced himself King-Beyond-the-Wall."

Cersei frowned, "What will you do?"

He took a deep breath, "I will send word to Brandon but I see little choice. I will raise the banners and ride north. If the Watch can no longer contain the Wildlings, it falls to me. Mance Rayder is merely another symptom of the disease. The Wall needs men, they are under a thousand. Rodrik is going to talk to our men and I instructed Maester Luwin last night to pen letters to every lord in the North to call for volunteers."

She nodded, "I will send a raven to Jaime and my father and ask them to gather men from Casterly Rock."

He nodded, "I will send word to Stannis and Hoster Tully and hope for the best, there is little point in contacting anyone else. They mock both the North and the Watch, I'm told." They sat quietly for a time before he spoke again, "Is there anything you needed, Cersei?"

She smiled, "Interestingly enough, there's been a raven from King's Landing. You brother intends to ride to the Wall after stopping at Winterfell. He is bringing the Queen and the rest of the royal family."

Ned stood them up, grabbing up Ice as he did. "It will be good to see my brother. Did he say when he planned on leaving?"

"He said that they planned to leave during the full moon and that the trip should take about a turn."

Ned smiled, "Good, I'll send word to Benjen and ask him to come to Winterfell. It will be good to have all the Starks here, even for a time." He and Cersei then left the godswood and as they did Ned's thoughts turned to Gared's words.

The smile left his face and his thoughts turned bleak. What if Gared was right? Their words were Winter is Coming but what if something worse was coming with it?


	11. Stannis II

Lord Stannis Baratheon's teeth ground as he frowned at his brother Renly, which was nothing new for either man. He and Renly rarely got along these days and Stannis was unsure why.

It seemed to start after the Greyjoys were toppled nine years ago when Tywin Lannister resigned as Hand of the King and Stannis took his place Brandon's Hand. In Stannis' place, Brandon named Oberyn Martell as Master of Ships, many thought appointing a Dornish man as Master of Ships showed Brandon to be foolish but Oberyn had spent time on ships before and more importantly was shrewd no matter the situation. Stannis had initially disliked the man but had grown to respect him.

Oberyn was one of the very few that Stannis had served with during his time on the Small Council that Stannis respected and with Jon Arryn dead and Tywin returning to Casterly Rock, he was the only one still on the council. Judging by the sight before him, he doubted Renly would be joining that group any time soon.

Renly was the new Master of Laws, and at the moment he was over an hour late to a Small Council meeting. Stannis had found his younger brother in his chambers, being fitted by a tailor. Renly looked very much like Robert had when he was still alive, tall and broad shouldered. His long black hair was brushed to a shine and tied back with a gold ribbon.

Renly had always been a frivolous lad and now that he was a man Stannis felt that frivolity was turning into something worse. He and Cressen had agreed that if he were to come to the Capital and work with Stannis that he might grow up at last, but it dismayed Stannis to see him not taking this appointment seriously.

He wore only a pair of black breeches and black leather boots as he stood in front of a mirror, the tailor held two fabrics in front of him. One a navy blue and the other emerald green. Renly examined himself in the mirror before turning to Ser Loras Tyrell; the young tourney knight was his brother's constant companion.

A fact that all on its own made Stannis jaw clench as the man's father was the one who led the siege on Storm's End during the Rebellion.

Loras lounged on the couch with a cup of wine in his hand a plate of grapes before him looked at the cloth and said, "The green."

Renly nodded then caught sight of Stannis in his reflection, "Ah, Stannis! What do you think the blue or the green?" But he seemed uninterested in the answer as he took the green fabric and held it in front of his chest with an appraising eye.

With a growl, Stannis bit out his reply. "I think you were supposed to be in a meeting an hour ago, Renly."

Renly turned with a sardonic grin, "Come now, Stannis. What could be so pressing with our dear King making his way to that frigid land he calls home? Before long, Brandon will be in Winterfell's courtyard doing whatever it is Northmen do when they greet each other." He turned to Loras, "What do you think they do when they greet each other?"

Loras took a sip of wine and said, "Probably sternly repeat their words and shiver. Margaery claims it is already snowing up there."

Renly laughed as he handed cloth back to the tailor, "Snow? In summer? I'm sure Brandon is happy, always complaining about the weather as he does." He picked up his doublet and pulled it on then crossed the room to his desk as he laced up.

Loras nodded, "All that fur and leather in King's Landing. Gods, it's no wonder he's so dour all the time."

Renly turned back to Stannis, "Is that why you and he are such good friends, Stannis? Does he brood and swelter while you grind you teeth, you must be such fun at parties. It's a good thing I'm here."

Stannis felt his mood darken further, "_King_ Brandon left us here to run the Capital while he inspects the Wall."

Renly rolled his eyes, "What's to inspect? It's a block of ice that holds back the wildlings. The dothraki are a bigger threat and they fear the ocean!"

Stannis scowled, "That is not for you to decide."

Having finished lacing his doublet, Renly picked up his wine and took a long drink. He then held out his arms, "Relax, Stannis. It's not as though the Wolf King can hear us! Or even care. I've heard the talk; he has no care for 'Southron games' as he calls politics."

Stannis had reached the limit of his patience. He looked first at Renly's tailor and then Tyrell. "Get out." His tone offered no room for argument.

After they left, Stannis pushed the door closed while Renly's expression turned stormy. "He is our King, Renly. You will show him respect or I shall take your tongue myself."

With a roll of his eyes, Renly scoffed, "Relax, dear brother. It's harmless talk is all."

"That talk from a member of the Small Council is _never_ harmless. Especially not in front of a Tyrell!"

His brother shook his head, "Are we to have this conversation again, then?"

"Loras Tyrell's father laid siege-"

Renly slumped into a chair with an annoyed huff, "Oh good! We are!"

Stannis pushed on as though he hadn't spoken at all, "-For nearly a year. He sat outside our walls, gorging himself on our crops while we starved. You nearly died because of that man were it not for Davos and here you sit drinking wine with his son!"

Renly looked at him for a tense moment before he said, "I am aware of what happened but I think you are unaware of some things, dear brother. The Lannisters and Starks live far from our home compared to Highgarden. They actually know our banner men, train with them, and marry them. Unlike the Starks who marry fish and lions. When was the last time you were at Storm's End? When was the last time you spoke to the Conningtons or Dondarrion or even your wife's house?" Stannis scowled but Renly continued, "No need to answer, because _I_ know how long it's been. Years, Stannis. Years! Years here in King's Landing talking with these bloody Starks and Lannisters.

"Do you know there are still peasants in the Stormlands that call him the Usurper? So perhaps you should stop chastising me and start asking questions of yourself."

Renly stormed from the room and Stannis was left with his thoughts for a moment before he left himself for the rookery. He'd send a raven to Cressen and find out what was going on in the Stormlands.

When he returned to the Tower of the Hand he found Ser Davos waiting outside of Stannis' solar. Ser Davos Seaworth was once a smuggler that more than once moved stolen goods out of Storm's End but it was what he'd brought to Stannis' home that had earned him a knighthood.

Davos had smuggled food, mostly onions and salt fish past the Redwyne blockade in the middle of a moonless night and saved the people in Storm's End as a result. For his heroism, he knighted Davos in the courtyard of Storm's End the day the siege was broken. Then he'd personally shortened the man's fingers on his left hand with a cleaver for smuggling. Since that day Davos had grown to be his most trusted advisor, he relied of the man for honest and plain spoken council.

The man bowed his head respectfully when he saw Stannis approach, "My Lord. I bring word from Storm's End." Stannis entered his solar and the Onion Knight followed. Stannis took a seat behind his desk and offered the man a seat across from him, which he took. Davos then spoke, "Maester Cressen received a raven from Castle Black asking for trained men."

Stannis nodded, "I've received an identical request from Lord Stark this morning. I plan to ask for a dozen volunteers from our men, in addition to sending the usual types from our cells. Is that all?"

Davos shook his head, "No, my lord. Lady Shireen asked me to give you this." He handed Stannis an unsealed letter from his daughter. He did not worry about Davos reading the note, he could not read but more importantly Davos had too much honor to read words meant for his eyes. Stannis placed the note on the top of his stack of unread correspondence, where it would be read as soon as Davos left him. "She is a kind girl, my lord."

Stannis nodded, "Agreed." He frowned as Renly's words came back to him. "Davos, what is the talk of the King in Storm's End?"

Davos' eyebrow rose in curiosity, "The King? Nothing I haven't heard about other kings. People complain."

Stannis could see the man was uncomfortable but he had to know, "Do they still call him 'Usurper?'"

Davos frowned deeply, finally he said. "Yes, my Lord. Some do, but not all. The Mad King was not well loved, but some people worry that as time passes that the North will wish to control the South."

Stannis scoffed, "Ridiculous. Do they expect Northern sons to come down and become overlords? Perhaps Greatjon Umber's son will come down and marry Margaery Tyrell and declare himself Lord of Highgarden. Or the She-Bears will sail down from Bear Island and take The Arbor."

Davos nodded, "The small folk are frightened of the North, our mothers and grandmothers have filled our heads with tales of their conquests for generations and then a Stark army stormed King's Landing and took the crown for themselves." They sat in silence for a time while Stannis digested his advisor's words. Then Davos spoke, "My Lord, there's something you should know. Cressen felt it too sensitive for a raven. A woman arrived at Storm's End, she claims to be some priestess from Asshai and your lady wife has welcomed her counsel."


	12. Brandon

Brandon Stark laid eyes on Winterfell for the first time in over a decade and smiled. He turned to Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy and his trusted knights returned his smile. "It always looks like this in my mind. The summer snows drifting down lightly, covering the trees and mingling with the smoke from the chimneys." He breathed deeply, the scent of sentinel trees blending with the sharp smell of a dozen fires, they were still a mile away but he could see the Stark banners snapping in the breeze. Just past the tree line he saw an elk rubbing its antlers against a tree. "Gods, what a perfect place!"

Barristan nodded, "We always see our family homes as such, Your Grace. Your life was simple here; parents, family, friends and the love they have for you."

Arthur laughed, "Getting philosophical on us, Ser Barristan?"

Brandon laughed, "Afraid he'll outshine you, Arthur?"

The Sword of the Morning shook his head with a wry grin, "Never, Your Grace. The Seven shine as one."

It was Selmy's turn to laugh, "Now who's turned philosophical?" Brandon had come to admire his Kingsguard over the years. He'd had three in the beginning; Arthur and Barristan were the last members left from Aerys' Seven. Two of them, Martell and Darry, had died defending the Mad King's son at the Trident. Brandon had released Jaime Lannister to return home while Gerald Hightower and Oswell Whent refused to bend the knee to him so he'd sent them to take the Black.

He put care into the process of replacing the brothers of the Kingsguard. He and Arthur decided to have each of the Seven Kingdoms represented in his Seven. This was accomplished by starting with Ethan Glover. Brandon's former squire had distinguished himself several times in battle while serving under Brandon; he was knighted after the Battle of the Bells when he'd slain three Connington men by himself. He'd shown his prowess again at the Trident when he'd led six mounted knights around the edge of the field and slaughtered Rhaegar's archers at the very start of the battle.

Next, Brandon chose Brynden Tully. The Blackfish was a peerless commander and while he was older than all his brothers save Barristan he was still one of the fiercest fighters in Westeros. Brynden was a good enough choice that not even being the new Queen's uncle could raise a question from Arthur or Barristan.

Brynden suggested Creighton Redfort from the Vale. The pair had served alongside each other during the Rebellion. Creighton towered over most men and was as strong as an aurochs. He boasted that he'd bested as many men with his shield as lesser knights did with their swords. Brandon remembered him proving it in the Tourney at King's Landing when Sansa was born when he'd knocked three men unconscious during the melee with his shield.

Rivalling Creighton for strength was Ser Lyle Crakehall. The Strongboar was the second son of one of Tywin Lannister's banner men and though he wasn't nearly as tall as Redfort he was monstrously strong. It had been said that he'd beheaded Lord Harlan Manning with the blunted side of a maul after his sword became stuck in the man's horse.

From the Reach came Ser Glendon Goode, the second Glendon Goode to serve in the Kingsguard and forth from the house as a whole. Glendon was a humble young man who saw wearing a White Cloak as a bit of redemption for his namesake as the man had served in Rhaenyra's Queensguard during her bid for the Throne. Goode had been known more for his tourney prowess than wartime prowess… Until the Greyjoys rebelled, Glendon was at Brandon's side as they took Pyke and he'd been slain by Dagmer Cleftjaw defending Brandon's life.

They replaced Goode with his squire, a bastard son of Garth Tyrell named Garse Flowers. Garse had turned eighteen just days before the attack on Pyke and when Glendon was slain; Garse picked up Glendon's sword and took Cleftjaw's head and then five more iron men with it before the battle was done. After the battle, Barristan took Glendon's sword and used it to knight his former squire on the field before Arthur offered him a white cloak. Garse still carried his mentor's sword.

Brynden, Ethan and Lyle had traveled with them to Winterfell leaving Creighton and Garse to protect the Council while they were gone. Also with them were his wife and their children. Catelyn had never been to his home before, the closest they had come together was Riverrun when he'd come north to let Rickard foster with Ned. Ned had brought Robb and Jon with him but not his daughters as they were still was too young to travel.

He'd promised Rickard, the next time they saw each other would be at Winterfell and he'd be a man grown ready to come home and take on more responsibilities as the Crown Prince.

He rode back down the line and found the Royal Wheelhouse then knocked on the door. Three heads appeared his daughters; Sansa and Minisa aged eleven and eight and his youngest son, Artos who was soon to have his fourth name day. Sansa, despite having a traditional Stark name looked like her mother with a pretty face, auburn hair and blue eyes that lit up like the summer sky. She was wide-eyed at the sights and sounds before her. "Father! This is everything you have said and more!"

He smiled at his daughter, "Does this please you then, my sweet?"

She flushed and he melted inside, "Very much. Will you take me riding in the Wolfswood? Or to the Long Lake? May I see the Godswood? I've always wanted to see a weir wood! Oh, I can't wait to meet Joanna and Arya! Aunt Cersei will like me, won't she father? I cannot wait for her to see the dress mother and I brought for her…"

His daughter seemed to become more and more excited as she spoke and finally he laughed. The sound finally brought her to a stop, "Sansa, your aunt and cousins and all of Winterfell will love you. I am certain of it." He turned to nine year old Minisa and Artos, she had a Tully face like her sister but she had taken his coloring and temperament. Her grey eyes would lighten when she smiled or turn hard as flint when she was displeased. Her laughter was as free to come as her anger and in equal measure.

Artos was Ned in miniature; everything from his face to how quiet he could be reminded Brandon of his brother. Minisa had claimed Artos as her responsibility when he was born and the pair was nearly inseparable.

Minisa looked around and then up at the falling snow, "It's very lovely father, but…"

He raised an eyebrow at her, "What is it, Minisa?"

The girl frowned then turned to her brother then back to him and said, "We were hoping to see wolves." Brandon looked inside and saw Catelyn grinning at him and he could only sigh.

When Minisa's face started to turn stormy, he was left with little choice but to say, "I will make sure we see wolves while we are at Winterfell, then." He sat the Iron Throne, he was the King of Seven Kingdoms and these two girls had him tightly wrapped around their fingers. "Are you all ready?" He was answered with three eager nods. "Good. Back inside then."

His children returned inside the wheelhouse and he rode back to the front of the party. Barristan and Arthur were waiting for him. Arthur spoke, "Are they eager, Your Grace?"

He smirked, "Very much so. I have just promised they could see wolves while we are here."

Barristan laughed while Arthur shook his head, "Your Grace, you have one of the finest Kingsguard in history. Could you please try not to get one of us eaten? I would have to write that in the book and I'd hate for the last thing written about a White Brother to be 'wolves found him pleasing to the taste.' Especially were Barristan to write that about me!"

Brandon laughed, "I make no promises." He snapped his reins and rode on for Winterfell.


	13. Daenerys

Daenerys Targaryen shivered in the Northern cold. Even dressed in the heavy dresses and furs most women wore in the North, she was colder than she could ever remember. Before today, the coldest place she'd ever been was Braavos. It never snowed in Braavos, certainly not in summer. She inched a little closer to the fire in front of her.

While the rest of the Royal caravan had most likely reached Winterfell this morning, they were still a day's travel away. This could happen on a journey as long as the one as the one from King's Landing to Winterfell. Any number of things could happen: a damaged saddle, a thrown horseshoe, a horse or rider taking ill, a cart damaging a wheel or axel just to name a few possible reasons.

That was not the reason these six lagged behind.

Nor did they run into any sort of unexpected weather in the month-long ride.

They did not lag behind at any of the places the King and Queen stayed at to visit with friends of family or make any side trips. They had ridden with the King's company every step of the way until this morning when the King ordered them to stay behind so the King could prepare Lord Stark for their arrival.

The six riders were an unlikely troop. Ser Brynden Tully and Ser Lyle Crakehall of the Kingsguard were sitting at a cook fire preparing their morning meal. Brynden had gone into the forest just after dawn and felled a pair of ducks with a bow which he and Crakehall had plucked and prepared with some of the tomatoes and onions that had been brought North with the caravan and a handful of apples that Crakehall had picked from a tree at the edge of their camp.

Sitting on the other side of the campfire was a man named Yoren a brother of the Night's Watch. He was an old man, stooped with a scarred face. He spit a gob of spittle stained red from sour leaf into the fire while he mulled a kettle of wine with some nuts, bits of an apple and cinnamon. Yoren was known as "A Wandering Crow," a name given to the brothers tasked with traveling the countryside in search of new recruits. Yoren had seen nearly every corner of Westeros in service of the Watch.

Next to Yoren was one of the two men he was taking to The Wall, Maester Olyvar. The man shivered, Olyvar was young. He'd forged his chain only a few weeks ago and had been given what he considered a rather unfortunate post on the Wall.

He'd told Dany a few days ago that once he arrived at Castle Black he would swear their oaths and travel to the newly re-garrisoned Westwatch-by-the-Bridge to act as maester for Gerold Hightower. It was especially unfortunate for Olyvar considering he was from Lemonwood and had never even seen snow in his life.

Yoren watched as the young man pulled his grey maester's robe about himself and frowned, "If you're cold already, you'll be doomed at Westwatch. They say the winds there are born from the heart of the Shivering Sea."

Olyvar frowned and inched closer to the flames, "Westwatch. I would have preferred to go to the Nightfort."

Dany looked at the young Master then to Yoren. "What is the Nightfort?"

Yoren gave her a red-stained grimace and said, "The Nightfort was once the commanding castle of the Night's Watch. It was the largest and oldest of our posts. It was at once our glory and the home of our darkness. The Night's King and the Rat Cook were there, Dany Flint and the Seventy-nine Sentinels died there." He trailed off and scowled at Olyvar, "The place is cursed, boy. You'll learn better than to wish to go there."

The maester scowled, "With respect, Brother Yoren if I had 'learned better' I wouldn't have ended up assigned to a Night's Watch castle."

Dany frowned at the man, "Why do you say that? You told me you were not a criminal."

He nodded, "Yes, My Lady. I was not a criminal, but I was also not well loved at the Citadel. I was brash and arrogant and often argued with both my fellows and my teachers so when Brother Yoren came looking for a new maester for the Night's Watch I received the 'honor.'"

An angry snort drew the groups' attention to their last companion. Her brother, Viserys Targaryen wore black breeches and black leather riding boots, a grey tunic under a black jerkin of boiled leather. Over his shoulders was a grey cloak clasped with the three-headed dragon of their house topped with brown and grey rabbit fur. His silver-blonde hair was tied back with a black ribbon.

His expression was somewhere between misery and petulant fury. "What would any of you know of honor, bending the knee to that dog as you do?"

Dany sighed and the noise earned a betrayed look in her direction. They'd been all the other had for family as long as she had known and after all that time she could read him easily. From her earliest memories at the little house with the red door and the lemon tree, Viserys had been there.

They traveled the free cities of Esso in their search for men to rally behind them so he could reclaim his birthright, the Iron Throne. Viserys told her of their kingdom a thousand times and he'd always called it the same thing; My Land.

He'd implored anyone he could, from the Prince of Pentos to the Magisters of Myr. He talked to sellswords and slavers, priests and even tried to contact a Dothraki Khal or two. But they were endlessly stymied in their attempts, in fact it seemed anytime he had made any progress that they would be chased off; usually by one of "Brandon's Dogs" as he called them.

A few moons ago, Magister Illyrio had managed to get Viserys a meeting with the Golden Company and her brother had told her that they'd soon sail for Westeros with ten thousand men behind them.

Once they arrived his plans ended as all his plans ended, the small folk of Westeros and the houses still secretly loyal to House Targaryen would rally behind him and slaughter all those who stood with the Wolves and the Lions and Viserys would add the swords of Brandon and Eddard Stark as well as the blades of Tywin and Jaime Lannister to the Iron Throne and plant their heads on the Red Keep as a warning to all of Westeros never to betray the Dragon.

Not long after that meeting, Illyrio put them on a ship bound for Braavos. They spent more than a fortnight at sea. Dany had been excited about the journey until the morning she woke to Viserys' ranting. When she went up on deck she found a city she did not recognize though her brother clearly did. He demanded the captain tell him what they were doing here and called him a traitor and turncloak several times as he did.

Not long after her brother threatened to personally take the captain's head then man's large fist lashed out and caught her brother on the chin dropping him to the deck. Dany backed away in horror as the captain's men tied her brother up much like a pig while the captain promised no harm would come to her so long as she cooperated.

They were met by three men in golden armor and white cloaks. The captain surrendered her and Viserys as well as two letters "for the King." As she was helped off the boat she noticed the seal on the letters looked to be the same as Illyrio's.

Despite her fear, she spoke to one of the three men, a handsome man with long dark hair that was greying slightly at the temples. "Forgive me, ser. Where are we?"

The man smiled and she felt slightly put at ease before he told her, "You're at King's Landing, child."

She then spent several days in the Red Keep and though she was under guard she was given plenty of comforts. She was even allowed visitors; one of those visitors was a pretty red-haired girl not much younger than herself. The girl turned out to be King Brandon's oldest daughter, Sansa. Sansa was incredibly kind and well-mannered and asked Dany all sorts of questions about Esso.

After a week she could have almost forgotten she was a prisoner, but that fantasy was short lived when one morning nearly a fortnight after she'd been brought to the Red Keep she was met not by Sansa but one of the gold cloaks and led to the throne room.

The hall was crowded as she entered from a side door and she was kept off to the side of the room. A tall stern looking man with thinning tightly-cut black hair and a close cropped beard walked in from the same door and she caught a glimpse of a golden hand shaped pendant on his black doublet next to an embroidered yellow stag that marked him as a Baratheon.

He stepped through the crowd and stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to the Iron Throne. Moments later the large doors at the end of the hall opened. The man then called out, "All hail the King! Brandon, of House Stark. The first of his name. King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long may he reign!"

The crowd turned respectfully to a man she never would have expected. Viserys had always described Brandon Stark as some sort of beast, half giant and half wolf. She expected him to tower over people and look as though he'd just stepped out of the forest with blood covering his lips and running down his chin.

The Brandon Stark she saw was handsome for an older man. He was tall and broad shoulder dressed in black pants and boots and a grey tunic under a dark leather jerkin. His crown was rather simple compared to the crowns of the Targaryen Kings as Viserys had described them; a steel band that wrapped around his head. His long hair was brown though there was quite a bit of grey in his hair and his beard was mostly grey and white.

He climbed the steps to the throne and sat down, "Lord Hand, what business have you for the crown?" After he'd asked that several hours had passed. As people brought their disputes to the King he listened to them and his advisors carefully though she noticed he listened the most to his Hand, she would learn that he was Lord Stannis Baratheon, and Prince Oberyn Martell.

As the day wore on, Dany did her best to pay attention though at a few points her eyes drooped or her mind would wander. Then late in the afternoon, she was led down to the main floor of the hall quietly by the gold cloak that brought her here. Lord Stannis said, "Next order of business!" He gestured to the guards at the end of the hall and a moment later the doors banged open.

Her brother was escorted rather roughly by two knights of the Kingsguard. He didn't look as though the men tortured him but his right eye was blackened. The whole time they pushed him through the parting crowd he ranted loudly, "Get your hands off me, dogs! Do you know who I am? I am the Dragon!"

Once he was at the foot of the throne Lord Stannis said, "Your Grace, I present Viserys, of House Targaryen. He is charged with plotting to overthrow the Crown."

Brandon frowned, "What is the evidence?"

Stannis pulled out one of the two envelopes, "This letter was sent along with him from a man named Illyrio Mopatis, a magister of Pentos."

A bald man in silk robes spoke from his place at the Small Council's table, "Your Grace, Magister Illyrio is an old friend of mine and quite honorable. If he has sent Viserys to you it must have been because he was concerned. Perhaps at the progress Viserys was making."

Viserys barked out a laugh, "That's right! I was on the brink of bringing you to heel, dog!"

Stannis gave her brother a withering look before he spoke. "He had spoken recently with the Golden Company, Illyrio claims he offered their commander Winterfell and the title of Warden of the North in exchange for your head and that of your brother, Your Grace." He then gave Viserys a raised eyebrow, "However, the boy could not muster anything close to the asking price. It seems in Esso they call him 'The Beggar King."

A murmur of laughter rang through the remaining crowd and she noticed a smirk on the King's face before his face turned sour, "It didn't have to be like this, boy. You could have returned to Westeros at any time and we would have granted you your ancestral home. You would not have been lord but your son would have after he was fostered."

Viserys scowled and his face turned an ugly red, "Oh how kind of you, dog king! To grant me my family's home, however could I repay you?" He bowed in a mocking fashion before spitting on the floor. "That Throne is MINE by right of blood! You are your whore sister are nothing but thieves!" He was cut off when one of the Kingsguard struck him in the back of the head, causing him to stagger forward.

When Dany looked back to the King she could see fury in his eyes, "I would mind your tongue."

She turned back to her brother and tried to plead with her eyes for him to stop but it was clear that Brandon had awakened the Dragon, "And I will cut out yours, king of thieves! What gives dogs the right to rule over dragons?"

Brandon stood and descended the steps faster than Dany would have thought possible and suddenly his hand was around Viserys' throat. He walked her brother backwards as his face turned red from lack of air, "What gives me the right? Look." He pointed to a spot on the floor and when her brother did not comply he growled out angrily, "I said, _Look_! Do you know what happened here?" He released her brother's throat then gripped him by the front of his shirt, "My father rode to King's Landing after your brother _kidnapped my sister, _a woman promised to another man,and asked for her back. Do you know what your bastard father did?! He burned him in his armor and called for the death of his sons. That's what gives me the right!"

Viserys replied by spitting in Brandon's face, the Kingsguard knight's fist shot out instantly and caught him across the jaw. Dany had been thankful that the man had only been wearing leather gloves. Brandon turned and climbed the stairs, "Tell me boy, can you swing a sword?"

Viserys was yanked to his feet roughly, "Why? Do you wish to die by my hand?"

Brandon sat on the Throne, "Can you ride? Read a map? Do you know your letters?"

Her brother frowned in confusion, "What is the meaning of-"

The King then turned to one of the knights holding Viserys, "Ser Ethan, do you recall the day we took King's Landing?"

The knight stepped forward with a knowing smile growing on his face, "I do, Your Grace."

Brandon called out, "Brother Yoren!" Yoren had stepped forward and Brandon turned to her brother, "You should count yourself lucky boy. Your fate was decided long before you conspired against me. We decided the day I took the Throne, in fact. Viserys Targaryen, I offer you a chance to serve the Realm you desire so much. You will travel to Castle Black, and take the vows of the Night's Watch."

Her brother raved and howled as he was dragged out of the hall.

After he was gone, the King turned to her and the cruel smirk on his face fell away. He looked sad, "What am I to do with you now, child?"

That had been all he had said. They had stayed in King's Landing a few weeks longer and she had even had a chance to meet Rhaegar's Widow, Elia and their two children after the King had allowed them to come from Sunspear to see her. Not long after that she found herself on the road north with her brother and the Royal Family. This left them around a cook fire with her brother looking at her like a traitor. After a long tense silence, Yoren scoffed. "If you think you're the first to question my honor boy, you're sadly mistaken."

Dany reached out to her brother hopefully, "Please Viserys-" He swatted her hands away, "Don't be this way. You will be at the Wall and I do not want our last few days together spent with you angry with me."

Her brother scowled, "Then maybe you shouldn't have betrayed me." He walked away from the fire and the camp. Dany shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold this time.


	14. Catelyn

After the King and his party arrived and Ned and Brandon had greeted each other in the courtyard and introduced their families to the other they began to break up into smaller groups. Ned's daughter, Joanna took Sansa by the hand and led her to the glass gardens, both girls seemingly determined to be the other's new best friend.

Cersei asked her eldest boy, Robb along with Lyanna's son to show Minisa and Artos the Godswood along with Bran, Arya and Tommen. She also instructed her son be mindful of "Grey Wind" and the other "pups."

Catelyn had thought little of that as she moved to her first-born son. When she'd last seen him he was still a boy of eight, his auburn hair shaggy and starting to curl and his Tully blue eyes shining with unshed tears. His little face set with determination as he'd promised his father he'd be brave and mind his uncle and learn of their home.

Her baby boy had tamed her wild husband better than she ever could. Her husband had been called "The Wild Wolf" when he came to Riverrun the first time. She could still remember the young man who rode through the gate with his father, talkative and cocky as all young men were. He was handsome and charming and practiced in a way that let Catelyn know that he'd seduced his fair share of maidens before they'd met. Even so, she nearly fell in love with him from his first smile.

However, when she'd handed him baby Rickard for the first time all that went away. He became a father in that moment and when he looked up at her with gratitude she fell in love with him completely.

Catelyn never tried to favor one of her children over another, she loved each of them in different ways but Rickard was her first child and to see him standing before her: tall and grown, with a face that was more man than boy though his auburn hair was still shaggy and still trying to curl she knew Rickard would always be special. He even had a silly little beard that she was sure he thought made him look manly but to her it somehow reminded her of a little dirty faced boy that would look up at her with a smile and call her "Mama."

Then her baby boy gave her that same boyish smile though he spoke to her with a man's voice, "Mother."

She smiled and pulled her boy into a tight embrace, "Rickard." She stepped back and looked him over again, her hands coming up and cupping his cheeks, "Look at you, almost a man grown."

He laughed, "It had to happen sooner or later."

She laughed, "I've missed so much."

Brandon stepped to her side and gripped Rickard's shoulder, "Son."

Rickard nodded, "Father."

Brandon smirked then tugged lightly at the hair on his son's chin. "What's this, lad? Forget to wash your face?"

Rickard gave him an indignant look, "It's a proper Northern beard, father."

Her husband shook his head, "If you say so. Son, would you show your mother Winterfell while I speak with Lord Stark?"

"It would be my honor." Rickard smiled and offered his elbow to her, "My Lady?"

He led her leisurely through the courtyard towards the Great Hall. Once inside, she was surprised by how warm it was. Brandon had told her about how Winterfell had been built over a natural spring and the water flowed through the walls to warm the castle but it was another thing to experience it. "Have you enjoyed it here, Rickard?"

He nodded wistfully, "Very much. I have come to care for Uncle Ned and his family as much as you, father and my siblings. I've learned a great deal of many things. I've met father's banner men. I've seen White Harbor, Karhold and Torrhen's Square, even Bear Island and the Last Hearth. I prayed in front of a weirwood and even seen direwolves."

She turned to her son with raised eyebrows, "Direwolves?"

He smiled, "Yes, mother. Two moons ago, a pregnant direwolf appeared in the kennels. She birthed a litter of pups and Uncle Ned allowed his children to each have one."

Cat didn't know what to think of that, the idea of her children taking care of a direwolf… Still, this was not her home and she couldn't help but to wonder if there weren't meaning to the animal the Starks took for a sigil seeking out their ancestral home and bonding with the family. Also, this was not long after Brandon had decided to come north with the Targaryen siblings in tow, perhaps within a day of the raven Brandon sent heralding his trip reaching Winterfell. Could it be that the Old Gods were blessing the Starks in some fashion? Or worse could they be protecting the Starks in some fashion?

She felt a chill go through her and she managed to come up with the most neutral question she could think to ask, "What of the pups' mother?"

Her son shrugged, "She remained and she seems to have taken a shine to Lady Stark. Joanna and Arya named her 'Brightroar' after the lost Lannister Valyrian blade. She's a giant of a beast, nearly as big as a horse. Strangely calm though, you would think she was no different than any common dog."

She decides to change the subject before the taste of bile at the thought of her two youngest children wandering a Godswood populated with a family of direwolves could get any stronger. "Do you still like to read histories? Grand Maester Pycelle found several tomes he felt you might enjoy, one of them is about Old King Jaehaerys' time in the North another is about the history of the Free Cities."

He nodded, "Thank you, mother. I look forward to reading them."

She squeezed his forearm as they passed from the Great Hall into the Keep. She gave him a look then felt a grin come to her lips, "My handsome boy." He blushed bright red at her praise and she continued, "Margaery Tyrell asked me to bring you a letter as well."

He groaned slightly, "Mother."

She laughed and patted his forearm reassuringly, "She's a lovely girl, Rickard. She came to Court not long after you came to Winterfell. She's of an age with you but she's grown very close with Sansa since she came to King's Landing. They spend much of their time with the orphans of King's Landing. Her father, Mace, is the Lord of Highgarden. He's made some discreet overtures to your father for a marriage. Your father and I wanted you to return to the capital before we decided on your bride but it should be soon."

He shakes his head, "The Tyrells were loyalists and as I recall they laid siege to Storm's End for most of the war. I doubt Lord Stannis would appreciate my marrying their daughter."

Catelyn nodded, "That might be true but if there is one thing the Tullys have learned in the time we've ruled Riverrun is that a marriage is a quick way to bring potential problems to heel."

He frowned, "Shouldn't we reward our allies…" He flushed suddenly, "Perhaps a Northern house?"

She gave him a quizzical look and noted the way he looked straight ahead. She set thoughts of betrothals aside and decided to merely play a mother for a moment, "Rickard, is there a northern girl that's caught your fancy?"

When he turned bright red she laughed lightly and tried to recall what she knew of the Northern Houses. "Is it one of the Manderlys? I'm told Lord Wyman's granddaughters are both of an age with you." When he said nothing she took that as a no and tried again, "I also believe Lord Mormont has a niece near your age as well. They say the women on Bear Island are fierce."

She brought them to a stop and gave him a smile, letting him know that she was only teasing him a bit and he gave her a smile that was all Brandon. "I… Dacey and I have flirted a few times, but I will admit to enjoying her company."

She shook her head, Brandon used to speak of enjoying her company. Perhaps she would ask her husband to speak with her son before they leave Winterfell.


	15. Eddard II

Brandon, Arthur and Barristan joined Benjen, Ned and Cersei in the Lord's solar. The large square room was connected to the Great Hall. The sun streamed in through the windows, settling on the large map table in the middle of the room. The walls were lined with shelves of books, primarily journals of the previous lords of Winterfell. Ned unrolled a large heavy canvas map of the North the lands beyond the Wall before them.

Each of the forts and holds of the region were on the map as well as hints of the terrain, including the holds of the Night's Watch. Ned had had the map commissioned at the start of the year so only the five castles actually held by the Watch were named; Westwatch, The Shadow Tower, Castle Black, The Torches and Eastwatch.

Ned smoothed the map while Benjen began, "It is worrisome, Your Grace. The Wall has never been so undermanned but with Mance Rayder gathering a force we have been forced to spread ourselves thinner and thinner. Our ranging has pressed further north and we have re-garrisoned Westwatch and the Torches, but we are under a thousand men."

Arthur frowned, "A thousand swords is grim but-"

Benjen shook his head, "Forgive me Lord Commander, when I say 'a thousand men' I am counting _every_ man; stewards, builders and rangers. We have three hundred swordsmen, if I am being generous. Between desertion and lost rangings we've lost more than two score this year. The only small folk who have remained on the Gift at all live in places like Mole's Town that are within a day's ride of Castle Black and Eastwatch."

Barristan frowned, "Gods."

Ned could not help but agree with Ser Barristan's assessment; he knew much of this already, both from correspondences with his bannermen and correspondences with the Night's Watch. Greatjon talked of a flood of smallfolk from the Gift asking to stay on Umber Lands in the last year. The Karstarks, Mormonts, Glovers and Forresters had told him similar stories.

Brandon frowned as he looked at the map, "How many desertions? We know of seven."

The youngest Stark scowled, "More than double that number, many are starting to go over to Mance and it seems three made it to Braavos. It's the disappearances that worry Mormont the most. We have lost too many experienced Rangers; Theon Greyjoy and Will Rivers were two of our best men." He turned to Ned, "Did Gared tell you what happened to them?"

Ned looked up and saw the worry in Ben's face. As First Ranger, Ben was responsible for all the men that had disappeared. Now Ned had to tell him what Gared had said, only Rickard and Rodrik had heard the man's last words, Rodrik hadn't believed them. He'd said later that he believed that Gared was simply trying to stave off the execution by feigning madness. The Prince was not so sure, he'd told Ned that as fantastic as the story Gared had told had been, his terror was so great that the young man believed him.

Ned would have dismissed the man's words as easily as his castellan… Were it not for the appearance of Brightroar with her litter of pups in Winterfell that same day.

Still, Ned found himself taking a breath to steel himself before he said, "He said they were ambushed by the Others. He even saw one deliver a fatal blow to Greyjoy before he made his escape."

Ned was unsurprised by the reaction his words received, disbelief plain on all their faces to some degree or another. Except for Ben, his brother went pale. "I am unsure I believed him, but he swore that it was them. I asked Greatjon and Jorah to speak with their new smallfolk in the hopes of some of them having been Wildlings but they have not sent any information as yet."

Brandon laughed ruefully, "Wildings, deserters, direwolves and now the fucking Others." He looked up at his brothers, "I say we make for Essos and start a sellsword company."

While Barristan hid a smile Arthur laughed with black humor, "The Dayne Company has a nice ring to it."

The King smirked at his sworn protector, "I think the 'Wolfpack' sounds more intimidating."

It was then that Ned's wife broke in, "The best endeavors are named after a woman, you shall be 'Cersei's Army.'"

Ned cleared his throat before he turned back to the King, "I have sent ravens asking for trained volunteers and Rodrik has found a dozen men willing to take the Black but Mance Rayder must be dealt with soon."

Benjen spoke again, "We have heard rumors that Mance is not just gathering an army. Whole settlements are going abandoned and people are going into the Frostfangs by the score. Perhaps they've heard rumors of the Others as well." He pointed to the area of the map that Rayder's men were gathering. It was far to the North, a curious place to gather if they only intended to attack the Wall. They would be seen moving long before they reached Castle Black which would give the men plenty of time to prepare for them.

Ned was sure the others were thinking as he did, if Mance intended to strike at the Wall, the Antler River would be a much better place to stage an attack from. The Gorge, though treacherous, would be ideal while Hightower was still repairing and garrisoning Westwatch. Even crossing the Bay of Seals from Hardhome would be more ideal and that would lead them right into Umber and Karstark Lands.

He pressed a finger to the map at the Wall, "Give me your leave I will call for men. We will ride beyond the Wall and seek out Mance Rayder, even if only to determine his strength."

Brandon nodded while he looked at the map, "How many men would you take?"

Ned frowned, "Three hundred, mostly mounted. We would be outnumbered but better armed and it is unlikely Mance has many mounted. If it comes to combat, if we catch them while they're still gathering we should be able to bloody them without much resistance. As long as we can return before winter we can settle in and wait it out. Come the spring, Lord Commander Mormont, Benjen and I have something in mind."

Brandon looked between his brothers and Benjen picked up the explanation, "We plan to surrender the New Gift to Winterfell. Lord Stark will then grant the lands to some of the lesser families and build new keeps and settlements. If we can entice enough people to settle there the lands will be more secure and the Watch can devote our attention to protecting the Wall itself. Also, with people working the lands again we will be better supplied."

Brandon nodded, "Considering how often wildlings are making it past the Wall, three hundred men is a large part of the Stark forces."

Ned doubted his brother thought he and Benjen hadn't considered this, he wondered where Brandon was leading. "I had planned to call on Lord Manderly and Lord Glover."

His brother nodded, "You will, for _one_ hundred men. I will return to the Capital then ask Lord Lannister and Lord Baratheon to also gather one hundred men and march north with you."

Ned sighed, "As you wish, Your Grace."

Brandon had the grace to wince slightly after all but telling the Warden of the North to call upon others to perform his duties. They were all quiet for a few moments before Brandon spoke again. "We came north for another reason, Ned." Ned looked up with a raised eyebrow as his brother continued, "I am sure news of the two surviving children of Aerys being returned to Westeros reached even here."

Ned could see Cersei frown from the corner of his eye, his wife was far more politically astute that he was and she was often two or three steps ahead of him. Ned could only say, "We have heard rumors, yes. We had even heard you have committed the boy to the Watch."

Brandon sighed, "Lord Varys and Prince Oberyn had suggested marrying Rickard to his sister, Daenerys." He looked up and Ned knew exactly why Brandon had decided to come north. He knew precisely what the King would ask of him. "Stannis, Pycelle and Arthur had a different recommendation."

Cersei's frown deepened, "By Pycelle, you mean my father. He is very good at speaking in Lord Tywin's best interest. You wish us to marry Robb to the girl." Brandon nodded, "You recognize the political ramifications for the North, do you not?"

Ned quickly caught his wife's meaning, "This would be the second consecutive generation the heir to Winterfell shunned his bannermen in favor of marrying a Southron lady. To say nothing of marrying the daughter of the man who killed our father." He scowled and his first thought was he should have listened to Cersei and betrothed Robb to Mira Reed a year ago. "Manderly, Whitehill and Forrester have all offered their daughter's hands. You were old enough to remember how the Dustins and Hornwoods reacted when you were betrothed to Catelyn."

Brandon frowned, "It has to be Robb, Ned. The whole of the Small Council agreed that marrying her to a Stark will calm things especially if I were to decide to let Elia's son reclaim Dragonstone." Brandon also left unspoken that it could not be Jon even if no one other than the Starks and Stannis knew that his father was Daenerys' brother.

Arthur spoke, "That Varys wants her to marry the Crown Prince worried the Hand and I agree with his concern. I felt it was rather convenient that Daenerys Targaryen returned to Westeros just before Prince Rickard was to return from Winterfell to take a wife."

Cersei sighed, "Should we marry Robb to the girl, my Lord Husband's bannermen must be rewarded." Ned turned to her and he could see what she had in mind even though she only said, "Dacey."

Brandon looked between them and Ned cleared his throat before stepping away from the map table. He poured some wine for himself and Brandon then returned to his brother, "I believe Rickard and Dacey Mormont would be well-matched. This would also help you avoid insulting your Hand by marrying the Prince to the daughter or Mace Tyrell."

Brandon drank from his goblet then chuckled mirthlessly, "It seems that my Good Sister has taught you how to press an advantage." He drank again, "I'll send a raven to Bear Island, then. It seems I have much and more to discuss with Jorah Mormont."


	16. Tyrion II

Tyrion found the library in Winterfell to be blessedly quiet that morning. Lord Stark had provided his brother and the Royal party a warm welcome the night before. The Great Hall had been full of northerners celebrating, the air had been heavy with the scent of three spit-roast boars and the wine was flowing freely. Tyrion enjoyed his fair share and then some and had awakened this morning in his bed with a blacksmith hammering iron inside his skull.

Instead of using the pitcher of water left for him to wash his face he'd drank it down greedily before asking politely for another to wash with. Washed, dressed and reasonably sober, he staggered down to the kitchens and asked one of the scullery maids to prepare him some bacon and a fine tasting black beer and he'd nursed both the plate and the brew at the table quietly before he made his way to the library.

He found a quiet well-lit corner where he sat facing the door and before him was a book that was incredibly hard to find south of the Neck, though not nearly as hard to find as the works they were based upon. It was a copy of Grand Maester Alford's response to Septon Barth's Unnatural History. Because it drew so heavily from Barth's writings and seemed to even support some of his claims, Balor had ordered all copies of the book destroyed as well. However, this copy had survived in Winterfell's library unscathed.

He was in the middle of an essay about the possibility of dragons being migratory when he heard the door open. Jon Stark stepped into the library and shook snow from his hair, his white direwolf pup followed silently behind. Grey and red eyes found him and the pair made their way to his corner. He marked his place and set it aside as the boy took the empty seat across from him. "Good morning, Lord Tyrion."

Despite his pounding head Tyrion grinned at the lad, "Young Lord Stark. What business are you on this far too bright morning?" Tyrion would happily admit he liked the boy, though Jaime claimed that had more to do with his mother than anything else, which Tyrion would be quite loathe admitting. Certainly Lyanna Stark was as lovely as she was kind but he doubted she was anymore kind to him than she was to anyone else.

Jon shrugged while the direwolf looked Tyrion over curiously, "I have just seen my Uncle Benjen off, my lord. He had to return to Castle Black to talk with the Lord Commander."

He chuckled, "No need for that 'my lord' nonsense with me, lad. As my sister or father will attest, I am far from lordly." He looked at the direwolf carefully. The animal was barely more than a moon's turn of age and already nearly the size of a full-grown hunting dog. His red eyes unnerved the Lannister just a bit; it wasn't just the worry that the boy's pet was a direwolf more that the animal seemed to be appraising him to some extent. It made him think that the stories of direwolves were more than just crib tales. "I assume your wolf-"

Jon smiled and said, "Ghost."

Tyrion nodded, "'Ghost' is not considering me as a meal."

Jon chuckled, "No, he had a big breakfast." Ghost tilted his head thoughtfully and Tyrion reached out his hand to him. The direwolf sniffed his palm then laid down which let Tyrion relax. Jon looked over the books on the table, "I am sure if you asked, my Lord Uncle would let you help keep the library."

Tyrion grinned at the boy's joke, "I'm sure my sister would love that. Alas, I am committed to a long journey and taking over the Stark Library, though tempting, would prevent that."

Jon nodded, "I have heard that you plan to travel Westeros before the winter comes."

He smiled, "The Rock to the Wall to King's Landing then back home, hopefully before the snows follow me."

A new voice caused Tyrion to lurch out of his chair, "Quite an adventure, my Lord." Lyanna Stark stood behind her son with a wry grin. She was still as lovely as she was the first time he had seen her at Winterfell. Her long dark hair was done in a large single plait that hung over her left shoulder. Her grey dress matched her eyes and her face could still be mistaken for a considerably younger woman. She was one of the loveliest women in the realm… and he was still a dwarf.

"My lady." He pulled out the last remaining chair, "Please join us."

She nodded as she took the offered seat. While Tyrion struggled back into his chair she said, "My son and nephews spent most of the feast pumping your squire for information. I doubt he will be much use to you today, since they kept his cup quite full all evening while they told him tales of snarks and grumkins until he was quite green and glassy-eyed. I believe it's safe to say, that Jon would happily join you on your journey as far as Castle Black. He has been to many places in the North but not the Wall."

He nodded, "I would be happy to take Lord Stark along. It would be good to have someone familiar with the land in our party."

Jon looked at his mother inquisitively, Tyrion doubted that either had talked of Jon joining him but still he could tell Jon was eager to come along. Lyanna then said to her son, "I doubt Ghost wants to spend the morning in this dusty library. I believe I saw a rabbit in the Godswood this morning near the heart tree." Tyrion watched the direwolf perk up at the word "rabbit."

Jon stood up from the table, "My Lord. Mother." He then waved the wolf along and the pair left the library.

They were left in a companionable silence for a time before Lyanna spoke, "Thank you for taking him along, My Lord."

He smiled, "It will be a pleasure, I've grown fond of him over the years. Might I ask why you would wish him to travel to the Wall?"

She frowned slightly, "He wishes to Take the Black. His name is Stark, but he knows his uncle granted him that kindness when he was still but a babe and his name could have easily remained Snow." Her look turned faraway and wistful, "He thinks of himself as a bastard, I think. An orphan even if he is in the midst of family. Ned and Cersei and their children have always treated him well but even when he was a toddler clutching at my skirts I could tell he could see his world for what it is.

"I think that is why he wishes to Take the Black. In the North we talk of their grand purpose, the honor of protecting the Realm and every time his uncle came to Winterfell it was with some story of his grand adventures." She smiled, "He, Robb and later Rickard would trek through the Godswood pretending they were beyond the Wall as boys. They would even swear the words…"

Her smile faltered again, "I would hope that if he could see the truth of life at the Wall he would turn back. Ned would happily give him a keep to hold for Robb; Brandon would welcome him at Court. He has a keen mind and he's growing into a natural leader. He could serve the realm in so many ways but I fear he only sees one path before him."

Tyrion was not sure if it was boldness or insanity that moved him but the next he knew his hand had covered hers. He expected her to pull away, to recoil but instead she covered his hand with her other one and smiled gratefully. He felt heat on his face when he spoke but he hoped she would feel his sincerity when he finally spoke, "It will be alright, My Lady. Jon will see the Wall and the men at Castle Black and will return to Winterfell grateful that you let him decide for himself. A better mother he could not have asked for."

She laughed, "You're an honorable man, Tyrion Lannister. Despite what your sister says."

He grinned, happy to have helped Lyanna Stark through her pain. Still he could not let an opportunity for a good quip go to waste. "I hope you will keep that a secret, My Lady. It is difficult work being the black goat of the family."


	17. Bran II

Winterfell felt more normal to Bran than it had the day before. His Uncle the King and his family as well as the royal party were still in Winterfell but he had not been forced to dress in his finest clothes today nor was he drilled on his courtesies by his mother and Maester Luwin to make sure he knew what style to give each of their visitors when he greeted him.

The night before he'd been allowed to attend some of the welcoming feast and spent most of his time within earshot of his uncles. Uncle Benjen could always be counted on to have some story from his adventures beyond the Wall or some ghost story that the men of the Night's Watch told to each other and the welcoming feast was no exception as he regaled Bran, Arya and their cousin Minisa with the tale of the Rat Cook.

He'd heard the story before, both from his Uncle and Old Nan but Minisa had never heard the tale and she listened intently to her uncle's words and gasped and even gripped Bran's hand when Benjen leaned in close and whispered to them. "When I first swore my oath, Lord Commander Qorgyle ordered several Rangers to the Nightfort to find some old scrolls. Six of us traveled there and that night we slept in the kitchens. I slept fitfully that night and at one point my eyes opened and as I looked into the darkness I saw two angry red eyes in the shadows. The eyes… of the Rat Cook."

His cousin screamed, then laughed and clapped her hands while asking for another tale. Bran then turned his attention on the King and listened as he told Robb and Jon about a hunting trip he and Willam Dustin took while he was fostering at Barrowton. Bran listened intently and by the time his uncle's tale was finished Bran had decided he would do what he could to convince his father to let him go south with the King.

He had lain awake and planned his next few days long into the night, he would travel south to foster with the King and when he was just a bit older he would volunteer to squire for one of the Kingsguard, hopefully Ser Arthur or Ser Barristan. He would earn a knighthood and eventually earn a place in Rickard's Kingsguard.

He felt a cold wet nose press into his palm and he looked down at his direwolf. Yellow eyes looked at him inquisitively and Bran said, "I'll be the first knight of the Kingsguard with a direwolf. Rickard will be the most well protected king in history." The pup's mouth opened in a happy expression which made the boy laugh.

This morning he, Minisa and Jon had woke early to see Uncle Benjen off as he left for the Wall. He led his cousin up to the castle walls and they watched as his uncle rode out. He met up with a small party and talked for a while before three of the riders joined his uncle and continued north on the King's Road.

The remaining three riders continued towards Winterfell and his cousin became excited. "It's my uncle! Bran, come meet my uncle!"

Minisa's uncle was another of the Kingsguard, Ser Brynden Tully. He smiled at the princess before apologizing as he and Ser Lyle had business with the King and Lord Stark but he promised to spend time with her later that day. Not long after that, Septa Mordane collected Minisa for her lesson and Bran was free to wander the courtyard.

His eyes eventually fell on the Broken Tower and he felt a mischievous grin stretch across his face. After a quick trip into the larder to fill his pockets with corn he made his way to the base of the tower. The pup was at his side, his head tilted studying Bran. He smiled at his pup and pointed towards the open door, "Stay here." To his surprise, the wolf sat obediently.

He reached out and gripped the wall, he'd climbed the tower so many time that the bricks were nearly as familiar to him as his own skin. He started climbing the path that he always took, a path he'd learned by trial and error. He was barely more than a few feet up when he noticed the crows beginning to gather above. He had trained them far better than his direwolf; Maester Luwin told him it had to do with the birds seeing him as a food source.

As he neared the large hole at the top of the tower he could hear voices. After a moment he began to think that one of the voices sounded like Robb, "-speak to me, Your Grace?"

His uncle must have been further from the hole than Robb, his voice was indistinct. Bran climbed up a few more feet and he heard, "- and I wanted to tell you myself and when we're alone you may call me Uncle."

He reached for the next brick, "Tell me what, Y- Uncle?"

Once Bran was sure of his grip he pulled himself up enough to take his next foothold. Both Robb and his uncle were quiet for a while, long enough for him to climb almost eight feet when the King spoke again. "You know the story of the Rebellion, of course. The day we took King's Landing?"

Robb chuckled, "Yes, uncle."

Brandon laughed, "Yes, rather obvious of course. To be frank Robb, when I took the Iron Throne, many of the lords in the south were displeased. It might have been different had it been Robert, Baratheons had blood ties with the Targaryens where the Starks have none. Still, it was decided after he died by those of us in the rebellion that I should be king." The King was quiet and Bran could almost see the hole at the top of the tower. He was nearly to the post that jutted out underneath the hole.

Once the post had a winch anchored to it to pull up buckets but Bran used it to climb the last few feet, or sometimes as a perch to look out over the woods to the north. There he could see almost all the way to the Long Lake on a clear day.

"You know that Rhaegar's wife and children survived and live in Dorne, I presume?" Robb must have nodded since their uncle continued as though he answered, "You also know that Aerys' two youngest children survived the fall of King's Landing? They returned to Westeros shortly before I came north. The son, Viserys, was guilty of gathering an army to revolt and was sent to the Night's Watch."

Bran reached out and pulled himself up onto the post, once there he crept up slowly and peaked inside the tower. Robb was sitting on a large stone not far from Bran but his attention was firmly on the King. The man was in the middle of the room and Bran thought that he looked rather uncomfortable, like his father's face the time he'd eavesdropped on the man explaining about husbands and wives to Robb and Jon last year. His eyes seemed to fall on a spot over Robb's head as he continued.

"The daughter however… She'd never done anything to earn enmity and I refuse to be the kind of king that would punish children for their father's actions." Robb nodded; their uncle looked up suddenly and blurted out. "She's rather pretty of course… and Sansa says she seems quite kind."

Robb seemed to stiffen suddenly. As though he understood what their Uncle was saying, but the man continued. "It may not be the ideal situation, Robb… However, the same could be said for your aunt Catelyn and myself or your father and mother in the beginning."

Robb stood slowly, "Unc- Your Grace." Bran found that quite odd, why would his brother suddenly refer to their uncle as King? "Am I betrothed then?"

Once the words left his brother's mouth, their uncle seemed to calm. Finally he nodded, "Yes, lad. You and Daenerys shall be married shortly after the Mormonts arrive to negotiate Rickard's betrothal."

Robb turned away from their uncle and before Bran could duck away from his brother's sight he was caught. Robb sighed, "Others take me. Bran!"

Bran smiled sheepishly, "Does she have a dragon?"

Their uncle laughed loudly while Robb helped him inside. The king crossed the room and ruffled Bran's hair, "Your father is right, you must be part squirrel! Sadly no, Bran. Daenerys does not have a dragon."

Bran frowned for a moment before he turned to his brother, "Will you and she stay in Winterfell, then?"

Robb started to speak before he turned to the King. The man nodded, "Yes. She will marry Robb and when Robb becomes Lord she will be the Lady of Winterfell. Nothing about that will change."

Bran watched as his brother let out a breath, he then turned to Bran. "What were you doing out there? You know mother hates you climbing!"

Their uncle laughed, "Leave the boy be, Robb. Judging by the growing number of crows in the rafters you and I are intruding on the squirrel of Winterfell's domain." He turned to Bran, "Are you operating a second rookery?"

Bran grinned impishly as he reached into his pockets and produced two handfuls of corn. He, his brother and the King of Westeros spent the rest of the morning feeding the crows.


	18. Arya

Arya sat in the Godswood with Nymeria brushing the direwolf's fur, or rather trying brush her fur. Nymeria was not exactly cooperating. She squirmed under Arya's care and whimpered anytime Arya's brush found a tangle. She tried to calm the wolf but she was having a hard of it considering she felt worried.

The King's arrival at Winterfell had been very hectic. There were suddenly more people than she could ever remember being in the castle. Still, meeting her Aunt, Uncle and cousins was exciting, as was meeting members of the Kingsguard.

In the last few weeks, Minisa had convinced her uncle Brynden to tell them many exciting tales and she listened to all of them with rapt attention. Bran had followed Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan around for much of the first few days constantly asking about their adventures. Arya found that funny because she could see that her younger brother was trying to work up the courage to ask to squire for one of them.

In fact, everyone in Winterfell could see that which was why their father pulled Bran aside one morning and told her brother that he was not quite old enough to squire for someone but when he was that they would talk about it.

Then Daenerys Targaryen arrived and it quickly became known that she was to marry Robb which caused all hell to break loose. Many around Winterfell had assumed that Robb would soon be betrothed either to Alys Karstark, Meera Reed or perhaps even the daughter of her father's friend, Lord Forrester. Meera had visited Winterfell with her family more than once and was quite close to her oldest brother and Alys Karstark had made a pair of visits herself.

The Karstarks and Forresters were both at Winterfell to welcome the King so they were in the Great Hall when the betrothal was announced and she'd overheard the King trying to calm Lord Karstark the morning after. She was not sure how successful the King was as the Karstarks returned home just a few days later.

She'd tried to get to know her soon-to-be good sister and though she seemed to like spending her time with Joanna and Sansa, Arya found her interesting. Daenerys had lived most of her life in Essos and she had many interesting experiences in Braavos and Pentos. She also told Arya some of the stories that her brother told her about the Targaryens of old.

Arya listened wide-eyed as the older girl told her of Aegon the Conqueror and The Dragon Knight. She even had tales from the lost city of Valyria. Dany told her about watching the water-dancers and the Titan of Braavos and the Red Temple in Pentos. Dany had even seen Dothraki before.

To her surprise, Daenerys often asked about life at Winterfell. She asked about the wolfswood and the families and what winter was like. At first, Arya thought she was trying to learn what her life would be like once she married Robb. Then one morning as she sat with Arya and Joanna when they spent time with their direwolves, she told them that she'd never had a pet of any kind.

Arya hadn't given that much thought at the time but later she thought about all the times her soon to be good sister looked very sad and alone and suddenly realized the turmoil the Targaryen girl was in was probably even worse that the chaos Arya had experienced since the King arrived.

A fortnight after the Karstarks left the Mormonts arrived. Lord Mormont arrived with his wife and two young sons, his Aunt Maege and Maege's daughters Dacey and Alysane. Arya had always adored the Mormont women so she welcomed the visit even if they hadn't brought her friend, Lyanna.

She was surprised when it was announced a week after the Mormonts arrived that Dacey was to marry Rickard after he spent half a year at Bear Island and they would be granted dominion over Harrentown and would preside over the building of a new seat that the Heir Apparent would hold in the future.

It was after the Mormonts arrived that Arya began to notice Joanna and Sansa spending much of their day together, and she was sure they were conspiring about something. She began following the pair when she could but anytime they saw her they would chase her off.

During the feast for Robb and Daenerys' wedding the night before she saw Joanna and Sansa talking with her mother as well as the Queen. She tried to find out what was happening but she, Joanna and Sansa as well as Bran, Tommen Minisa and Artos were taken from the hall by Maester Luwin and put to bed. With all the guests in Winterfell, she and Minisa had to sleep with Sansa in Joanna's room. Arya had hoped to finally get her answers but Joanna merely told her that she did not want to talk about it.

This morning at breakfast the chaos came again. First Jon told her that he would be traveling to the Wall with her Uncle Tyrion, while he promised her that he would return after a few turns of the moon Arya had a terrible feeling that Jon would never return once he left Winterfell. Next, the King announced that he would return to King's Landing the next day and Arya finally learned why Joanna had been with Sansa so much: Joanna was going to spend a year at Court before she returned in the autumn.

Bran had started to beg to come along but Arya found she couldn't take anymore. She asked to be excused and after her father let her go she found Nymeria and retreated to the Godswood.

She finally set the brush aside and the wolf turned to look at her. Her golden eyes took her in before she pressed her head against Arya's brow and the girl's arms wrapped around the animal.

Sitting with Nymeria, Arya finally began to understand why she was taking all this so badly. Since Brightroar had claimed a warm corner of the kennels and whelped her pups Arya had grown to think of her family more like the direwolves they used for their sigil. They were a pack and packs were supposed to stick together. With her cousin leaving for the Wall and her sister going to King's Landing they would be incomplete.

To make it even worse, she'd heard rumors that once the King returned to King's Landing that father would gather men and march to the Wall himself. It worried her to see her pack scattering while she could do nothing.

"Arya?" She turned up at the voice and found Daenerys. Her good sister was dressed in far more appropriate clothes than when she first arrived but there was something about her delicate looks and nearly white hair that set her apart from the rest of the North. She gave Arya a sympathetic look, "Are you alright? Joanna said you've been out here since early this morning."

Had much time passed while she was out here? She looked up in the sky and saw that the sun had moved quite a bit since she'd left breakfast. "I'm fine." When she spoke, her voice was rough as though she hadn't spoke for hours.

Dany smiled sadly and sat down on the large rock she and Nymeria had perched upon next to them. "I have heard about your sister."

Arya scowled as she picked up the brush she'd set aside. She ignored the wary look Nymeria gave the brush before she blurted out, "Joanna is so stupid! Winterfell's never been enough for her! She wants to go south and meet some Lord's son or knight and marry him and give him babies like in some stupid song!"

Dany laughed, "I suppose she does. She also likes your cousin, Sansa."

Arya laughed bitterly and twisted the brush handle, "They can be stupid together, then!" She dropped the brush and jumped to her feet, "All _Princess Sansa_ has talked about since the King came to Winterfell is knights and tourneys and the flowers of Highgarden and her precious betrothed!" She clutched her hands to her cheek as she'd seen Sansa do, "'Joffrey is sooo handsome. He's Lord Tywin's squire. He'll be lord of Casterly Rock one day!'" She batted her eyes before her face twisted up in disgust. "So what! He's just stupid cousin Joffrey! He came to Winterfell two years ago with Grandmother and he looked like just another boy to me."

She paced angrily, "Marriage and babies! It's all so stupid and I'll never be some lord's wife, I'll tell you that right now!"

She heard a chuckle from the rock and turned to see Dany covering a smile. Arya suddenly realized what she'd just said and to whom she was speaking. She cursed herself and looked away in embarrassment. "I'm- I…"

Dany smiled, "It's alright, Arya." She stood from the rock, "Would you like to see one of the gifts Robb and I received?" She held out her hand and Arya took it with a frown. She then followed her good sister from the godswood. They crossed the courtyard and Dany continued speaking, "We received gifts from several lords from around the Seven Kingdom and particularly the North but I found one to be very interesting." They entered the keep and climbed a flight of stairs before Dany led her to the room she now shared with Robb.

They were larger than the room that Robb shared with Jon and later Rickard growing up. The main room was something like a smaller version of her father's solar with two adjoining bedrooms on opposite sides of the room. In the near corner was a hearth with a fire still going and near the large window on the far side of the room was a desk. She could see several items scattered around the room which she presumed were gifts but on the desk was a large wooden box.

Dany led them over to the desk and Arya could make out intricate carvings adorning it but on the top was the Targaryen crest. "This came from my good sister Elia courtesy of Lord Varys." She smiled, "Go ahead. Open it."

Arya reached out and lifted the lid from the box. Inside was what she first thought of as three large polished stones. They were each different colors, the first a cream color with golden streaks scattered across the surface. Next to it was a similar stone, jade green though she could make out bits of brown on the surface. The last stone was a black deeper than she had ever seen but she could still make out swirls of scarlet all over it.

She picked the cream colored stone up. It was heavy in her hands and the surface felt like the scales of a belt Meera Reed had shown her made from the hide of a lizard-lion. She turned to her good sister, "Has Robb seen these?"

Dany nodded, "He has. So have your parents and the King."

Her eyes followed a gold streak along the surface, captivated by the surface. It was beautiful, "Do you think they're real."

She tore her gaze from the stone and watched the older girl reach out caress the black stone, "I do."

Arya smiled, "I can't believe it. Someone gave you Dragon Eggs!"


	19. Viserys

Castle Black was a living nightmare for Viserys Targaryen. A fortnight had passed since he'd arrived with Yoren, Maester Olyvar, the dog King's youngest brother and three men the Umbers had given to the Watch when they stopped at Last Hearth.

They perfectly represented the Watch to Viserys; a brigand, a man accused of rape and a wilding raider. Each of them had chosen the Black over the rope, Viserys was beginning to think he would have chosen the rope.

He was colder than he could ever remember being, they dressed him in drab grey and brown rags, his hair still reeked of the mare they rode with and the food, prepared and served by a hulking brute missing two fingers, was disgusting.

Viserys Targaryen, Third of his Name.

He snorted into his cup feeling as though he would soon drown in self-pity. Were it not for Robert and the Starks he would been married with a child by now. He might have held Dragonstone for his brother, or sat on the Small Council, he might have even served as Hand for Rhaegar. Instead he'd spent most of his life in Essos, doing his best to reclaim the throne not only for him but for Daenerys.

At times, it had felt as though he'd fought so hard even more for Dany than anything. His young, sweet sister. She deserved none of what they had endured in Essos; traveling the Free Cities in the increasingly hopeless attempt to reclaim their birthright from the Starks. He could not tell her that the little house with the red door and the lemon tree she remembered from their time in Braavos was actually in Lys because he would be forced to tell her that after the death of Ser Willem Darry the Sealord of Braavos had considered selling Dany off to one of the pleasure houses while he sold Viserys off to the Second Sons.

He could not tell her that he stole enough gold from the man to run to Pentos and buy an audience with Illyrio. He could not tell her how the day he sold their mother's crown that he staggered into a back alley and wept in the shadows. He went quite mad after that, he resented the Starks for toppling his family and chasing him from Westeros. He resented Darry for dying and leaving them with a Braavosi so corrupt he would see a girl that should be Queen to a brothel. He resented all the rich men that would smile and placate him with every word then shove him along down the road.

He even resented Dany for the loss of their mother and sometimes his continued plight as if he did not have to make sure she was alright he would've gathered whatever sellswords he could buy and sail to Westeros to kill Brandon Stark and let survival be damned. More than anything, he despised himself for that very thought.

How far the last Targaryen king had fallen, to desire his own death if it meant he had just one fleeting moment of revenge. The quest to regain the Throne became all he desired, all he could think about even.

He woke with thoughts of landing in the Stormlands and hanging the Baratheons in the Great Hall of Storm's End.

He went to sleep to dream of putting the Eyrie to the torch.

When he ate he would taste the blood of the Tullys and Lannisters on his tongue and washed it down with wine that tasted like the sack of Winterfell.

Reclaiming the Throne was all that was left of him and if he turned into the biggest monster in all of history then it was worth it because that sort of man would have a revenge that would live for all the ages to come.

Yet even this was denied him so he sat in the Hall at Castle Black, surrounded by traitors, rapists, murderers and brigands and freezing on the Wall.

This morning he nursed a pint of black beer and a split lip courtesy of a man called "Dornish Dilly" the day before. It was an accident according to Dilly. They'd been sparing and Viserys was doing rather well when quite suddenly Dilly's shield came up "to block Viserys' blow" and smashed his face with his shield. The next thing he knew he was in the mud with men standing over him laughing.

One of the brothers, a man named "Bannen" laughed and said; "Look at that, lads! We've got the blood, where's the fire?" A roar of laughter went through the courtyard before Alliser Thorne silenced them and yanked him roughly to his feet. He'd grown to despise the knight in charge of training them since he'd arrived.

As though the knight could hear his thoughts he heard, "Targaryen!" The voice of Alliser Thorne cut through the hall and caused Viserys to jump. He turned with as neutral expression as he could muster. "The Lord Commander wants to see you. Get off your lanky ass and stop making him wait!"

Viserys rose to his feet, adjusted his cloak and pulled on his gloves before he left the dining hall. He crossed the courtyard quickly and entered the Lord Commander's Tower. After climbing the steps, he knocked on Mormont's door, an invitation came from inside and he pushed the door open.

The first thing he noticed was the huge raven flying right at his face screaming, "Corn? Corn! Corn!"

He managed to duck the bird and step into the room as he heard Mormont grumble, "Blasted bird." He found Jeor Mormont sitting at his table with his breakfast in front of him. He also found they were not alone; in fact Mormont was sitting with the one person at Castle Black he'd tried desperately to avoid.

Maester Aemon.

His father's great uncle was the Maester at Castle Black and had been since he refused the crown nearly seventy years ago. He'd been a maester already by that point but Viserys did not grudge the man his calling to serve. After all, he might never have been born had Aemon taken the crown all those years ago.

He resented Aemon for another reason. Aemon had been able to sit here on the Wall and avoid the hell that rained down on their family and while he and Dany ran to Essos. Mayhaps he was being unreasonable but he had suffered for so long that he no longer cared.

Mormont pointed to the still open chair, "Sit down."

He crossed the room with a frown and took the seat silently. Mormont then handed him two letters, one was still sealed with a grey wax direwolf seal and the other was opened already. "We received those from Winterfell this morning, an announcement of the marriage of Lord Eddard Stark's son Robb and your sister." He read through the letter quickly, it was a rather standard wedding announcement. "The other letter was sent for you specifically. Now, I wanted to inspect the wall this morning." Without further preamble, he stood while pulling his cloak over his shoulders. The raven perched on his shoulder babbling as he moved to the door.

Silence fell upon the room as the sounds of the bird receded. Viserys took in the old man's features. If he were asked to imagine a hundred year old man, Aemon would come to mind. He was bald with age spots on his wrinkled skin and he looked shrunken while his sunken eyes were milky white. His maester's chain clearly weighed on him causing him to look stooped. Still he commanded Viserys' attention.

Aemon spoke first, "I was told you were injured yesterday in the training yard. Are you in need of aide?" His voice was soft and weak and Viserys found himself leaning in to better hear him.

Viserys frowned and started to shake his head but remembered the man was blind, "No."

Aemon smiled wryly, "Ah, I understand then. You are angry with me." He chuckled to himself, "I sat here at the Wall while your father and brother were murdered and you were forced across the Narrow Sea."

Viserys looked down and saw his hands shaking, "Yes. I've hated you and Elia and her children so much for so long… Even Daenerys now…" He lurched to his feet so quickly and violently that the chair tumbled over. "My blood boils every moment! Where were you when Robert caved in my brother's chest? Where were you when Lannister slaughtered my father like a pig? Where were you when my mother and I escaped in the middle of the night like thieves?" He was pacing now, like a beast. He feared that if he didn't keep moving Mormont would return to find that he'd throttled the old man to death.

"When she gave birth to Daenerys… You're a _Maester_! You could have saved her life! You could have stopped father from burning Rickard Stark! WHERE WERE YOU?!" He finished with a roar that he could barely hear over the roaring of his blood in his ears.

When he looked at Aemon he saw tears in the old man's eyes, "Not a day passes without my asking that same question. Not a night where I do not dream of what I could have done to guide young Aerys away from his madness. I lost my sight long ago but I can see your brother's face as clearly as I can see my brother's. I failed our family. I know that. But our house is not dead, Rhaegar's children live, your sister lives and as long as they live House Targaryen has a future. I know it is of no comfort, but it is true."

He slumped into Mormont's chair with a scowl, "But we will sit on this block of ice for all our days."

Aemon shook his head, "No, we will _protect them_ for all our days."

Viserys laughed humorlessly, "From what? Savages with wooden spears?"

"From the Wildlings, yes and I pray that it is only from them." Aemon paused and though his eyes were pure white they found his and seemed to pierce his soul before he continued. "I fear that there is worse coming. Something much worse."


	20. Stannis III

Stannis stood on the deck of _Fury_ as the ship pushed through the waters of the Straits of Tarth. He heard Davos order the men to strike the sails and extend the oars as they entered Shipbreaker Bay. A sound decision considering the winds that cut across them; the Bay was treacherous in the best of weather and it seemed that weather was turning foul this morning.

The wind caused the deck to lurch beneath him and he thought of a long ago morning where he and Robert had stood atop the outer walls of Storm's End and watched the _Windproud_ break up and sink into these waters. Their father and mother had been aboard and were taken from them while they could do nothing but watch.

He'd lost much that day, not the least of which had been what faith he'd had in the Seven or and god for that matter. Cressen and Courtnay Penrose lamented Stannis' loss of joy and increasingly stern countenance but he'd never mourned the loss of laughter nearly as much as he mourned the loss of his mother and father. Their septon had tried to comfort him but he ignored any man who represented any god. They had taken his parents before his eyes and he refused to believe in any god so cruel as to make a boy watch the destruction of his world.

Nothing had ever been the same after that, Robert fostered at the Eyrie and Stannis had only seen him a handful of times before he was lost as well trying to free his betrothed from the clutches of Rhaegar Targaryen.

After Brynden Tully had relieved Storm's End and he'd left for King's Landing Stannis had seen little of his home but each time he had returned by sea, a part of him daring the gods to attack him the way they'd attacked his father. Each time he returned home, Stannis Baratheon defied the gods as only Durran Godsgrief had before and he would continue to do so.

Once the _Fury_ was close enough they threw out ropes to the men on the dock and were pulled into dock while the crew went about securing the deck. Stannis remained rooted to his spot as the men moved about him; he trusted Davos and his crew to do their jobs. Davos was one of the few men he did trust, and almost none so completely. Once the men secured the gang plank he stepped off the deck and was unsurprised when Davos fell into step with him.

They were met by Ser Courtnay, "My Lord, welcome home."

Stannis nodded, "Ser Courtnay. How go the preparations?"

His castellan frowned, "We've been able to gather the dozen volunteers as you've ordered as well as what arms and supplies we could gift to Castle Black."

This pleased him, "Very good, I want these men given a place of honor at dinner in the Great Hall tonight. They deserve as much."

Penrose nodded, "Of course, my lord." As they left the docks he noticed a score of people around a fire pit in what seemed to be a prayer. Penrose saw his gaze and explained, "Your wife has encouraged the Red Woman's nightfires. Every few nights the groups grow larger. I can bring an end to them."

Stannis frowned for a moment, his jaw clenching in thought. What was Selyse's game here? He'd been content with two children; Shireen and Steffon were good children; smart and kind. Yet she'd wanted to give him more and after two failed pregnancies before Shireen's birth and another two years ago she'd slipped into a dark mood. Had he left her at Storm's End too long to raise their children? Had this Red Woman spoke honeyed words into his grieving wife's ear? He felt his jaw ache before he managed to speak, "No. Let them have their fires."

Penrose nodded, "Very well, my lord."

Stannis spoke as they continued into the keep, "Have Cressen send word to my bannermen, I have been ordered by the King to gather one hundred swords to march north and assist the Starks at the Wall. We will need men and supplies for a long excursion. I will lead them."

Penrose and Davos both frowned at him though Davos was the one to speak, "You?"

Stannis turned a withering look on the Onion Knight, "That was His Grace's command, Ser Davos. He has ordered Lord Stark, Lord Lannister and I to confront a man that has gathered a wildling host and pronounced himself King Beyond the Wall. Make the arrangements, Ser Courtnay."

Penrose nodded, "Of course, my lord." He then left them in the general direction of the rookery.

After he left, Davos spoke quietly, "My Lord. This seems troubling; sending three Greater Lords to perform the duties of the Night's Watch."

A part of Stannis was pleased that Davos was cagey enough to see the troubling message the King was sending with his orders. He'd asked Brandon about the situation himself and the King had frowned and explained to him that there was evidence of something even worse beyond the Wall. With rumors of the Others being sighted by members of the Watch they were to look for evidence of their return. Yet he couldn't tell Davos any of this. At best he would think Brandon a paranoid fool, at worst… He would believe him and if Davos believed him he would never remain at Storm's End while Stannis marched on the Wall.

Davos was loyal and true, perhaps another man might think of Davos as a friend. If the Onion Knight was his friend, Stannis could not say but he trusted the man. Finally, Stannis found the only words he could give the former smuggler. "It is little more than a show of force. The Wildlings will see our men and our steel and soon return to their huts and small farms and forget the folly of rallying behind some oath breaker with delusions of grandeur. I shall be back in Storm's End before the autumn. You and Penrose will remain at Storm's End and keep affairs in order as you have done while I served in King's Landing."

The other man seemed as though he might protest but relented after a moment. Finally, he nodded and said, "Of course, my lord. What of Renly?"

Stannis scoffed at the mention of his brother. He knew with certainty that Renly would stay in the capital with Loras Tyrell; wear exquisite clothes, throw lavish feasts and try to convince Brandon to hold a tourney so that he might wear his ridiculous emerald green armor. With summer ending, his brother would not return to Storm's End. "Renly will remain in King's Landing, I'm sure. He is no doubt much happier there than he would be here. While I am gone, your duty is to speak on behalf of Steffon."

Davos nodded and left him. He continued on towards his solar but paused as he passed the Great Hall. He heard people within, chanting. He pushed the door open and found Selyse inside with several of her attendants. They were gathered around the hearth, a fire roaring within and in the center of the group was a woman.

Tall and graceful looking, she was dressed from head to toe in red, even her hair was a red that shone like beaten copper in the firelight. She spoke in a husky voice that commanded attention. "Lord of Light, we thank you for another day; we ask that you watch over your faithful so that we might teach the world of your glory. We ask that you give us the strength to stand against the darkness that gathers even now in the dark and frozen wastes to the north."

Stannis frowned as he listened to her words, he heard the like before. Change out "Lord of Light" with "The Grace of the Seven" and she would be indistinguishable from a septa or a septon. Finally her eyes searched the room and found his. They were as red as the rest of her and they seemed to light when she saw him, "We ask that you give your strength to your chosen. He that was born amidst salt and smoke, he that will wield Lightbringer, Azor Ahai reborn. We ask that you watch over Stannis Baratheon as he marches north to face the darkness." His eyes narrowed in suspicion. How did she know? He'd told no one but Penrose and Davos. "For the night is dark, and full of terrors."

His wife led the group with a response of; "For the night is dark and full of terrors!" As they chanted the red woman smiled, Stannis felt his teeth begin to grind.


	21. Daenerys II

Daenerys woke when she felt Robb stir, the room was cast in the dull blue light of the pre-dawn twilight. Robb stood out of bed and she rolled over to watch him. He made his way over to the basin and washed himself before pulling on his smallclothes followed by black breeches and black boots. She slipped out of the bed to wash and dress as well. By the time she had dressed in a blue wool dress lined with white fur at the collar, her husband had finished lacing up a brown leather jerkin over his grey tunic and began lighting the lamps around the room after stoking their fire. The light streaming into the room had changed as well as the sun began to crest the eastern skies.

She noticed that he would cast shy looks her way as he dressed, they had spent the night before performing their "duty" and she had noticed Robb was always a bit shy the next morning. As though he wondered if he might have hurt or offended her the night before.

As though he knew what she was thinking of, he flushed and stammered a moment, "Did you sleep well?"

She smiled at him, "Very well, Robb." She had also noticed that she enjoyed the way the corner of his mouth would quirk when she used his name.

"Good. I had… That is, if you'd like to join me, I wanted to spend some time in the godswood this morning before we break our fast. Uncle Tyrion and Jon will be leaving for the Wall this morning so father will want to have us all together to eat one last time."

She nodded, "Of course." She knew why he wished to go to the godswood, of course. He wished to beseech the Old Gods to give them a child.

Though nearly two turns had passed since they were married she was not yet with child. Maester Luwin had told them not to worry, he'd explained that getting pregnant was as much about the timing of the act as it was the act itself, he had then offered them both some poultices that he felt would help as well as advising them to couple regularly.

Not that she minded that, her husband was rather handsome. Tall and broad with a northern look and the Lannister coloring he was easy to look upon. She also doubted that Robb found much hardship, though he might be shy the next morning, he was quite willing in the bed and he'd complimented her beauty rather freely.

She had been terrified the first night but after they had fallen asleep that night she'd had a dream. She and Robb coupled and created their son. Only in the dream, he was fully grown with her husband's broad shoulders and Lord's Eddard's stern face. His hair was a lighter blonde than Robb's, closer to hers and he had her violet eyes. He towered over her but when he looked down at her his smile was kind and affectionate, it reminded her of Lord Eddard's smile as well. They never spoke but she knew everything there was to know about him.

She and Robb had named him Cregan, after the Lord of Winterfell who'd served Aegon the Third as Hand for a single day. He'd had many younger brothers and sisters and he became the Lord of Winterfell after Robb. He was stern like his grandfather but kind and ruled the North with the even hand it had needed.

In her dream, they stood in the godswood of Winterfell before the heart tree during a spring day. She could hear a howl from deeper in the woods and when she turned and looked back towards the castle she found a giant black dragon flying overhead.

When she woke the next morning, entwined with Robb she felt at peace and her trepidation had vanished. Something about the dream convinced her it was only a matter of time before Cregan was born and from there other children would follow. The thought pleased her more than she might have expected, being a mother to Robb Stark's children would be far different than fathering Viserys' children would have been.

Robb had included her in things, he'd told her that he had grown up watching his father consulting with his mother and he'd always assumed that was the way things were done. She never felt any need to tell him otherwise. He was as intrigued by her tales of Essos as Arya was and he was happy to tell her what he knew of life in Westeros. For the past few days he'd helped her learn to ride a horse, yesterday they had taken a ride through the Wolfswood with Grey Wind, and he'd promised to ride up to Long Lake with her very soon.

She and Robb left their chambers and made their way to the godswood. They walked through the woods hand-in-hand until they came upon the heart tree. She watched her husband kneel before the ancient weirwood and enter into a silent communion with his gods.

After he was done, they started back towards the castle. She noticed Robb's aunt Lyanna entering the keep ahead of them. Daenerys had spent very little time with the woman. She desperately feared and desperately desired to talk to Lyanna Stark in equal measure. She was perhaps the person with the most knowledge on her oldest brother in Westeros and that made Dany incredibly curious. Was Rhaegar man or monster or in between? Lyanna Stark could answer that question.

She could tell her that Rhaegar was kind and misunderstood, even by those closest to him, and it had all been a mistake that had gotten disastrously out of hand. Or she could tell Dany that Rhaegar was a monster so overcome with lust and ego that he happily plunged the realm into chaos on a whim.

Lyanna had the power to damn all Targaryens in Daenerys's mind.

Then there was the other half of the equation, perhaps Daenerys represented something horrible for the older woman. She could hate Dany's very existence. Dany's family had been nearly destroyed by the Baratheons and Starks, Viserys had told her as much countless times so it might be easy to forget why they had done it. Her brother had kidnapped this woman, and when Lord Stark came to King's Landing to ask for her return, the King had executed him in brutal fashion and ordered the destruction of his House.

To make it even worse, Arya and Joanna had told her that Lyanna's son had been a bastard of Robert Baratheon's. Her brother had killed the father of Lyanna's son.

In a way, she and Lyanna were more closely tied than she and Robb.

She quieted those thoughts as they entered the great hall and took a seat at the head table. They were the last to arrive and she and Robb sat down with Arya to her right and Jon to Robb's left. She smiled at her good sister as she handed Dany an apple that she had saved for her. They shared some small talk. Though much of the conversation at her end of the table was dominated by Arya asking Tyrion Lannister for stories from the King's Road.

The dwarf laughed, "What to tell? I've seen so many amazing things and met such wonderful-"

Lady Stark's eyes narrowed, "Remember these are my children, _dear brother._"

Tyrion turned to his sister with a mock affronted expression, "My kind, sweet sister! I would never tell your lovely children some foul story." He grinned, "I know, I will tell you a story that Lord Piper told while I spent the night at Pinkmaiden. Lord Piper told me that his septon came to him one day while he was settling disputes complaining about a singer name 'Tom Sevenstrings.' It seems that the septon enjoyed games of chance, and played in the tavern outside Pinkmaiden. He played Tom and won a great deal of coin, yet Tom felt the man cheated so he followed the man around trying to get recompense.

"After several days it seemed that frustration set in and Tom decided to make a spectacle of his grievances and stood up in the middle of the sept during the septon's sermon and began to sing a heavily rewritten rendition of 'Her Little Flower' called 'His Little Sept.'" Tyrion finished with a chuckle and smirk while he waggled his small finger. It seemed that the man had the complete attention of the Starks though the reactions were varied.

Lord Stark seemed to be hiding a bit of a smirk in his cup of beer while Lady Stark's eyed her brother suspiciously. Arya was grinning madly as she tried to piece together how the singer could have turned that song into a cruel jape. Jon and Robb were grinning at each other while trying to avoid Lady Stark's ire.

By chance, Dany caught eyes with Lyanna and she and the other woman shared a grin at Tyrion's tale and before an awkward feeling could settle between them Bran spoke, "What were the words, uncle?"

In that moment Arya's eyes went wide, Robb and Jon choked on a laugh while Dany felt heat on her cheeks. Lord Stark suddenly seemed to find his breakfast absolutely fascinating. Tyrion looked at his nephew and seemed to try and come up with a way to answer the question and not be murdered by his sister but when he started to speak Lady Stark hissed, "Do not say a word, Tyrion."

The dwarf's mouth closed with an audible click of his teeth. Bran was unable to hide his disappointment and he settled into pushing some of his bacon around his plate with his fork. It was then that Dany noticed how pale Bran looked this morning, "Are you alright, Bran?"

The boy looked at her with tired eyes before he mumbled, "I'm tired."

Cersei looked at the boy with concerned eyes, "Bran? Is it still the dreams?"

Bran shook his head, "No… Well… I _like_ the wolf dreams. Playing with the other pups and seeing the world differently… These are different. They…"

Dany noticed both Jon and Robb tense slightly and stare at Bran while Tyrion said, "'Wolf dreams?'"

Bran shrugged, "I have dreams where I'm inside my wolf sometimes."

Lady Stark frowned, "And these are different?"

He nodded, "There's crows…" He seemed to struggle with himself about what to say.

Lord Stark frowned with concern, "Bran, look at me." When he looked up, "They are just dreams, they cannot hurt you. Dreams are a way to confront the things we fear."

"Then what do I do?" Bran's eyes were wide and hopeful.

His father was quiet for a long time before he said, "Always face the things you fear, Bran. Never let them have power over you."

The group finished their meal in silence before making their way out to the courtyard. Tyrion's companions were awaiting them, each of them climbing onto their mounts. Tyrion turned to Lord Eddard, "Once again, I thank you for your hospitality, Lord Stark."

Her good father nodded to the dwarf, "You are family, Lord Tyrion. It is my pleasure to have you here."

Tyrion turned to his sister with a grin, "I will miss you, sister. You only grow more wonderful as you spend more time here."

Cersei sighed good naturedly, "Have a good journey, Tyrion."

He laughed, "I hope to, a grand adventure to be sure. Give my regards to our father when he arrives." She nodded and he turned his attention to Lyanna as she finished her farewell with Jon. "My lady, you have my word that your son will return none the worse for wear."

The woman laughed, "Considering your reputation Lord Tyrion; that will be quite the feat."

He made a show of clutching his hands to his chest, "You wound me, my lady."

She smiled kindly, "If you are inclined, my lord, I would appreciate if you wrote to me of Castle Black and Eastwatch. I have always wanted to see the Wall but have never had the opportunity."

He nodded, "Happily."

Dany then turned her attention to her husband and his cousin, "I expect you to return, Jon."

The dark haired lad smiled, "Yes, yes. You've told me this. I have to see the Wall for myself. You can understand that, can you not?"

Robb frowned, "What I understand is that you are a Stark of Winterfell and our home will be less without you." He gripped Jon's shoulder, "I will see you _when_ _you return_." Jon nodded and Robb laughed, "Good."

The two young men embraced then Jon climbed onto his mount before he called out, "Ghost. To me." His white direwolf walked calmly over to him, causing the horses to tense and nicker worriedly. Jon, Tyrion and the others rode out and after while the other Starks went about their business.

Yet Robb remained long after the others, Dany stood by his side until he was ready to walk away hand in hand. As they returned to their chambers she noticed Robb seemed lost in his thoughts. She reached over with her free hand and squeezed his arm before she asked, "Are you alright?"

He looked up and nodded, "I was thinking about Bran's wolf dreams. I've been having them too."

She frowned, "Are they vivid?"

He shook his head, "Not as strong as Bran's seem to be, I did not even realize what they were at first. Just scents and images. Now I wonder…" He turned to her, "When Brightroar was found in the kennels and whelped the pups, Jon said to our father that she came here for a reason and that we were meant to have them. I thought nothing of it at the time, do you think maybe Jon was right?"

They entered their chambers and as Robb closed the door her eyes were drawn to the eggs, she thought of her dream the night they were wed. Cregan's smiling face and the sight of a black dragon flying above Winterfell. She turned to her husband and smiled, "I do." Then she surged at him and plundered his mouth with hers.


	22. Joanna Stark

Joanna Stark sat by the window in her room at the Red Keep with her stitching in her lap and Lady dozing at her feet. Outside the window, she had a view of Blackwater Bay. She could see three ships with colorful sales drifting through the water. The sky was bright this morning with very few clouds marring the endless blue as a pleasant breeze drifted through the room.

King's Landing was nothing like Joanna had expected. It was hotter than she could ever remember, so hot that she wondered if the city had ever seen snow even in winter. She and her mother had packed her lightest dresses and left her wool dresses behind but even her lightest dresses were far too heavy. Queen Catelyn had been gracious enough to commission several new dresses for her, dresses that were far more… Southron in their style.

The clothing the men wore was just as foreign to her, while the King dressed much like her father in wool and leather the rest of the men in the Red Keep dressed more like the Master of Laws, Renly Baratheon. Lord Renly was quite dashing in his bright silks but she doubted any man in Winterfell would think much of his clothes. Prince Oberyn's clothes were even stranger to her as he dressed in a Dornish fashion. It was all she could do not to stare at the people like her sister might have done.

The weather and clothing were just some of the changes, the sheer number of people in the city was stunning. Even in the early morning the Red Keep seemed to have more people than Winterfell had during a feast. She had yet to travel through the rest of the city but she was excited by the prospect, surely a place with so many people would be almost magical. Sansa and Minisa's Septa, a kind faced woman named Eglantine, had promised that she would take Joanna around the city soon enough and she could not wait. Eglantine was far more gentle in nature than Mordane though she did expect as much from Joanna as her septa in Winterfell. She also had a very pretty singing voice and knew quite a few songs that Joanna had never heard before.

Not every change was a good one, she missed her family terribly, and friend Jeyne Poole. She missed how her father's face would change when she would enter his solar and sit with him as he read his letters or how her mother would look over her stitching with pride. She missed Robb, Jon and Rickard laughing with each other in the training yard or the way Bran tried to hide a grin when he'd been climbing. She missed seeing Tommen's face after he'd found a new animal to play with. She missed riding with Auntie Lyanna. She missed the warmth of Hullen's stables, or the quiet of the library or the smell of the Wolf's Wood. She missed the way Cley Cerwyn would smile at her from time to time. She missed the face of the weirwood in the godswood and dipping her feet in the pools to feel the warm waters.

The thing she found she'd missed the most was a surprise to her however. She missed Arya. Her brash sister who was far happier in the stables with Hullen than she was stitching. She missed her sister barging into her room heedlessly, or how her face would turn red when Mordane forbid her something. She missed her little smirks when she'd found a toad or had successfully avoided the day's lessons or the first time she'd struck the center of the target with Bran's bow. She missed Arya asking for their father to tell stories about the old Kings of Winter.

Arya had always been such a pest but Joanna wished she was here. She imagined her sister would mock Lord Renly's fancy silks and the fashions of the city. Arya would probably have had Septa Eglantine frowning in exasperation or she would have snuck out of the Red Keep with Nymeria only to return with a dirty face and some tale of a grand adventure.

Lady seemed to sense Joanna's melancholy because she lifted her head and looked up at her with sympathy in her yellow eyes. She smiled down at the direwolf then sat her stitching aside. She stood up and smoothed her skirt before she said, "Come, Lady. Arya's not the only Stark that can have an adventure." She left her room with Lady close behind, she still did not know the keep very well so she soon found herself merely exploring the places she did find. At one point, she saw two of the Queen's Handmaidens and shared a smile with the women as she passed.

Not long after, she found a courtyard where several men of the City Watch were training, she passed through the courtyard and through a door. She noticed Lady's nose twitch as she sniffed the air, when she followed the animal's lead she found the faint hint of bread, she turned to Lady and said; "We must be near the kitchens." She decided that while it may not be very proper perhaps she could try and sneak some of the lemon cakes her cousin had told her about. They followed the scent down the halls and found they grew more pleasant as they got stronger.

The hall came to an end and as she tried to decide which direction to go she heard voices. It sounded like two men arguing, her curiosity drove her to peak around the corner. She could see the back of the acting Hand of the King, Prince Oberyn but not the man he was so angry with, other than his dark hair. Finally, the Prince seemed to bring the conversation to an abrupt end and they parted. Joanna dipped back behind the corner and felt her heart racing in her chest. She cried out in surprise when she was found not by Prince Oberyn but Lord Varys.

The plump bald man was dressed in bright orange silks today and the smell of lilac oil overpowered the scents coming from the kitchens. He gave her a wide smile and giggled almost girlishly, "Young Lady Joanna, what a wonderful surprise. Having an adventure, I see."

Her mind was blank and she stammered, "I-I…"

The man put on a most sympathetic expression, "Or are you lost?"

She nodded stiffly, "I… I was looking for the kitchens."

He smiled widely again, "I see, looking to sneak a sweet treat." He gave her a fond look, "I recall being young and stealing a sweet as well." He held out his elbow to her, "Come, Lady Stark and I will help you in your search."

She gingerly took his offered elbow and he led her to the kitchens, when they entered he found a young kitchen maid and said, "My dear, could you please help Lady Stark? She's hoping to find a treat." He finished with a wink in Joanna's direction. The girl gave her a pair of lemon cakes before returning to her work. Varys then led her from the kitchens, before she realized what had happened they were out in the courtyard again and Varys said, "Rest easy, Lady Stark. I will keep your secret." He giggled again, "That is what I do best, after all." Then he was gone.

She numbly ate one of the lemon cakes while handing the other to Lady but if she were ever asked what they tasted like she would not even be able to say. Her mind was caught on whoever the Hand was so angry with and why the Master of Whispers would be in the kitchens and she wondered if perhaps not everything in King's Landing was as wonderful as she'd originally thought.

"There you are!" Nor would she even be able to say how much time passed before she was found by Sansa. She looked up and saw her cousin smiling at her from across the courtyard alongside her friend, Margaery Tyrell. They made their way to her and sat down on the bench she was sat on, "Enjoying the sun, Joanna?"

She smiled, though it felt forced, "Yes."

Margaery looked at Lady and smiled, "I've heard stories of your direwolf, Lady Joanna. I had been hoping to see her. May I?" She finished with a hopeful look.

Joanna smiled, "Of course and please call me Joanna, Lady Margaery."

She laughed, "Only if you do me the same courtesy." She reached out and stroked Lady's fur gently.

Joanna looked across the courtyard and noticed Margaery's brother, Loras talking with Renly. She had thought Renly was the most handsome man she'd ever seen when she first arrived in King's Landing. Then she'd seen Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers. His handsome face and golden eyes were only enhanced by his long hair. Just then Ser Loras turned, smiled at her and she'd felt her face burn hotly.

Sansa spoke sadly, "Lady Margaery is returning to Highgarden tomorrow."

Joanna looked up and saw Margaery looking quite forlorn, "Why?"

The Tyrell girl shook her head, "Father was quite embarrassed when he learned that Prince Rickard would marry a Mormont. He has been trying for months to work out a betrothal between myself and Rickard."

Joanna frowned as well, though hers was in confusion. "But you have never met Rickard, have you?"

Margaery and Sansa both laughed lightly before the older girl spoke, "Joanna, don't be silly. Many betrothals are made without the pair ever meeting. Or even being born. Sansa even told me that your brother was betrothed Daenerys Targaryen without meeting her."

The northern girl frowned, her father and mother had always made it clear that she would have a say in her marriage and she'd assumed that was the way things were done. She scowled, "But you knew nothing about Rickard, wouldn't you worry that he was cruel? Wouldn't you at least want to know if you cared for him?"

She shook her head, "I would do my duty for my family. Besides, there would be worse things to be than Queen of Westeros." She finished with a bit of a grin, "Or having Sansa for a sister."

Sansa smiled at her friend, "Perhaps Joanna and I could visit Highgarden."

Margaery laughed and hugged her friend, "It would be lovely to show you my home, Princess. I will discuss it with my father when I return there and hopefully send you an invitation as soon as possible." She then sobered, "But if you will excuse me, I must finish packing my things."

Sansa nodded her ascent and soon Margaery was gone. Joanna watched the girl pass her brother and Lord Renly after exchanging polite briefings with the pair. Sansa then turned her attention on her cousin and smiled, "My mother's handmaiden told me they passed you exploring the castle earlier." She stood then held out her hand, "Come, I'll show you my favorite garden in the Maidenvault. Father had blue winter roses and roses from the Reach planted there and they should be blooming today."

Joanna smiled widely, "That sounds lovely." She set the conversation she spied on earlier aside and when she thought about it later she decided that it was probably not anything out of the ordinary to begin with.


	23. Joffrey

Joffrey Lannister took a deep breath of frigid air in through his nose and adjusted his cloak around his shoulders. The fur lined heavy black cloak was a gift from his uncle when they arrived at Winterfell. He'd rode out from Casterly Rock with his Grandfather, one hundred Lannister swords, a score of men volunteering to Take the Black and nearly as many squires, pages and scouts.

They'd met with as many men marching out of Storm's End under the banner of Baratheon and the direct command of Lord Stannis at the Crossroads and continued the march north. In each town they passed through they'd received a royal welcome and in each place either his grandfather or Lord Stannis would ask for volunteers to join the Night's Watch. They would receive one or two men from the lords, though some lords like the Tullys and Reeds would also offer food or mounts or weapons as well.

At Winterfell they met with his uncle and his force and all three forces marched out of Winterfell under the Direwolf banner. He'd seen over a score of sigils since he'd left the Rock. Many he knew as well as the Lion of Lannister: The flaming tree of Marbrand, The brindled boar of Crakehall and the golden wreath of Algood. The sigils of the men marching under the Stag were also familiar to him; the sea turtle of Estermont, The lightning bolt of Dondarrion and the suns and moons on the shield of the woman they called "The Maid of Tarth."

It was the northern sigils he was still somewhat unfamiliar with; Mermen, Bears and Giants chief amongst them. Still they were what he'd come to expect from northmen; imposing men who looked used to having snow in their beards while his teeth would chatter with every gust of wind. He did his best to keep his jaw clenched though, as his grandfather had told and shown him, 'Battles are won with swords and spears, wars are won with men who believe in their leaders.'

His eyes found the woman again. Her ghastly profile drawing his gaze like a beacon, her nose must have been broken at least once, she looked like she cut her straw-colored hair with a dagger. Still she was nearly as big as the Umber, the one they called "Smalljon." He tried to picture her in a dress but his mind rebelled as badly as if he'd tried to picture his Uncle Tyrion as full-grown. She seemed strangely comfortable in her armor, perhaps even more than the man riding alongside him. Sandor Clegane. The Hound was sent with them by his father to act as a sworn shield, his grandfather did little to protest as he'd long kept Ser Gregor as a sworn sword.

She fascinated him, why would she march with Lord Stannis? Did she not have a miserable husband on the Isle of Tarth with ugly children? She looked up at him and scowled a bit and he looked away, right into the smirking face of The Hound. "Fancy her, boy? Aren't you betrothed to a Princess?"

He shook his head, "No." He glanced her way again for a moment, "Why is she here?"

Sandor grunted, "'Brienne the Beauty?' She's one of the fiercest swords in the Stormlands, they say. One of the Dondarrion men says she won a melee before they marched and the boon she asked from Lord Baratheon was to march with them." The scars of his face twisted as he gave her an appraising look, "Looks strong as an ox but I could take her, she'd make me work for it though."

Joffrey nodded, he trusted Clegane's appraisal nearly as much as he would his father or grandfather's. Sandor Clegane was as battle-hardened as his older brother but he'd twice refused knighthood. He was a hard man and Joffrey found he liked the man's counsel. He was one of the few men to talk to Joffrey like someone other than Lord Jaime's heir and Lord Tywin's squire.

Sandor had appraised nearly every man they'd marched with, including Lord Eddard and Lord Stannis. He'd told Joffrey things to look for in a man's posture or eyes that would giveaway how they fought. These conversations were not all that different than the things his grandfather taught him, Tywin stressed the importance of knowing what any opponent's strengths or weaknesses were. Though grandfather was more concerned with battle formations and maneuvers. Sandor's lessons were closer to when his father was teaching him to swing a sword as a boy. Perhaps that was why he found his talks with the Hound so exciting.

He would rather best a single man with a blade than ten thousand men with maps and orders.

He looked to Brienne again, she had something to prove. She was hungry to prove her worth to someone; that was what drove her. It was probably what made the men turn away from her, someone with something to prove in battle would be dangerous if angered. Father had said that more than once when they'd watch men train in the courtyard or at the tourneys they attended together. Father always watched men fight as though they were teaching him something and Joffrey tried to take that lesson to heart.

He thought about what his father would say about this woman. He'd probably laugh, much like many of the men in camp would after she walked by, but then he'd look her over and perhaps see what he could learn from her. He decided then to keep an eye on Brienne of Tarth. The wind gusted and cut into him, it drew his attention forward. The Wall had been in sight since yesterday but now as they approached the gates of Castle Black it towered over them. Not even Casterly Rock seemed so formidable, though he knew the mountain the Rock was built into was taller. He glanced in either direction to see it stretch into the horizon. He spurred his horse until he was near his grandfather's side, he found himself riding next to the banner men.

The column halted behind his grandfather Lord Stark and Lord Baratheon. From the gate, he heard a guard call out, "Who goes there?"

His uncle called out, "Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. I am here on orders of the King. We also bring arms, mounts, supplies and volunteers to join the ranks of the Watch."

A short time passed before the gates opened and three riders emerged. They were all dressed in the black of the Watch and all looked to be older men. At the front was a broad shouldered man with thinning white hair and a thick beard. He stopped his horse and glanced at Lord Stark, "Ned."

His Uncle nodded, "Jeor."

Joffrey assumed the man to be Lord Commander Jeor Mormont then. He gestured to the men that rode out with them, the first was a man with greying hair tied back with a ribbon. "Lord Steward, Bowen Marsh." The other was a noble looking man with dark hair and a trimmed beard. "Ser Jaremy Rykker."

His uncle nodded at both men, "The Hand of the King, Lord Stannis Baratheon of Storm's End." Then to his grandfather, "Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock."

Jeor snorted, "Quite the company you travel with, Ned."

If his uncle saw any humor in Mormont's remark he did not show it, "We've been sent to bring justice to the King Beyond the Wall."

Mormont nodded to Ser Jaremy and he rode back towards the castle. Not long after the knight disappeared within the gate began to open fully. Lord Stannis nodded to one of his men and the order to make camp was called out. The men began to break into groups and make camp. Joffrey followed his grandfather and uncle as they rode ahead. When he passed through the gate he took in the men training in the courtyard. He glanced towards one of the larger buildings and caught sight of his Uncle Tyrion. The dwarf smiled and raised his hand in greeting. He returned the gesture and Tyrion crossed the courtyard.

He dismounted his horse and approached his grandfather to take the reins of his mount and secure it. Lord Tywin turned to his younger son as he removed his gloves, "Tyrion."

Tyrion gave the elder Lannister a tight smile, "Father. Have you come to Take the Black?"

Tywin turned towards Lords Stark and Baratheon, "Hardly. His Grace has asked Lord Stark, Lord Baratheon and I to perform a task." He then followed them towards one of the towers where Lord Mormont was dismounting.

Tyrion nodded then turned to Joffrey with a far more genuine smile, "My dear Nephew. I do believe you have grown since we parted last."

He smiled, "It is possible, Uncle. How has your grand adventure been?"

Tyrion laughed as they followed Tywin across the yard, "Excellent thus far. We were planning to leave for Eastwatch shortly, but Jon's uncle has been out on a ranging and he has not returned yet." Joffrey nodded as he recalled Benjen and Jon Stark from his first visit to Winterfell. "Am I to assume that with three Lords of Great Houses at the head of half a thousand men that Mance Rayder is the man my father has been sent to dispatch?"

Joffrey nodded, "Yes, uncle." They entered the tower and climbed the stairs into the Lord Commander's chambers. Mormont pulled a canvas map from his bookshelf then spread it across his dining table while a raven muttered from his perch on the headboard. Joffrey looked over the map and quickly recognized it as the known lands beyond the Wall. "A moon's turn ago, I asked our First Ranger to scout the Frostfangs. Our men had previously spotted Rayder north of the Milkwater, gathering the Wildlings."

Lord Stannis gestured to the map, "We will march north and west from Whitetree, past the Fist of the First Men. From there we can follow the Milkwater into the Frostfangs."

Mormont frowned, "You're near a thousand, you won't be able to surprise him."

Lord Tywin replied, "We don't intend to, we are as much a symbol as we are a force. The Wildlings may have numbers but we still have advantages in training and steel. When presented with our force the Wildlings will scatter."

Mormont turned to Lord Stark, "What of Rayder?"

Joffrey was surprised by the icy expression on his uncle's face, it was so unlike the warmth he'd always seen before. It was a mirror of his grandfather's face, "He broke his oath. He will face the King's justice."

There was silence in the room again, Joffrey felt the tension rising amongst them. It was as though the men knew something he did not and were silently debating if they should discuss it. Then Mormont spoke, "Benjen told us Gared's tale. My son sent word as well, there are stories of the Others moving beyond the Wall." Tyrion laughed but he was the only one and his laugh soon died. Joffrey's mind went to all the crib tales he had heard. Tales of the Others and the Long Night.

Stories he'd grown up believing were meant to frighten children. Wights and Ice Spiders and a winter that lasted a generation. It had to have been a jape to make him squirm, probably similar to the ones they make when new recruits arrive at Castle Black. Any moment now Mormont would laugh and uncle Tyrion would slap him on the back. They must be joking, they had to be. Yet as the tense silence stretched out between the men, and their faces remained unmoving Joffrey slowly became convinced that there was no jape.

Despite the warmth of Mormont's fire, it suddenly felt like the wind that had cut through him as they approached Castle Black had returned. Only this time the wind was inside him.

***_Post Note: Sorry about the delay, but I have a very demanding full time job so there's not always time for my hobbies. Plus I was caught on what I planned for someone in the next part, now that I've pulled that trigger hopefully things will start flowing again._


End file.
